


I'm The Stars At Night

by bubblegumclouds



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019), True History of the Kelly Gang (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Depression, Falling In Love, First Meetings, First Time, Fleshlight (band), Fluff, M/M, Self-Harm, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 76,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23514925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblegumclouds/pseuds/bubblegumclouds
Summary: Modern AU where Schofield is the lead singer of Fleshlight and Blake is looking for something do to on a Friday night.
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 98
Kudos: 146





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 1917 day!
> 
> So I've been working on this for weeks and I decided there's not a better day to release it than 6th April. I hope everyone likes it. The songs are linked at the top of each lyric paragraph as sadly they are not Fleshlight songs because we only have 2 of those. The bands I put in here are Inhaler and JAWNY so give them a listen.

Tom’s freshly poured beer threatens to spill as he advances his way through the packed crowd. His fingers indent into the plastic as he’s nudged around, the humid and musty smell radiating through the audience. He regrets the dark canvas jacket he’s slipped on over his plain t-shirt as now he’s melting in the stifling bar. Reaching up, he pulls his slicked-back hair from his clammy forehead, letting one curl fall back, just as the band stride up onto the stage.

The room is sombre and dingy but everyone in it so electric, Tom can almost taste the music bubbling up in the air. He studies around him, the neglected, American-style metal signs plastered everywhere aren’t doing much to conceal the torn wood and flaky paint. The floor tugs down his leather boots, cleanliness isn’t a priority here either evidently. Judging by the taped up paper to the side of the exit door, the show was supposed to have started 15 minutes ago. Then again, its also mispronounced the band’s name so Tom isn’t betting on it to be wholly correct. He takes a sip of his drink and can promptly tell that it’s been watered down. What a waste of £3.60.

He knew when his brother recommended him a band that it wasn’t going to be something comparable to The Rolling Stones or Queen but here he is, stood in a shitty little venue barely outside of Camden. It’s the type of band where you pay more on the underground to get there than you do on the door in. But Tom had asked for a band to see on a Friday night in London for cheap and that was what Joe had given him.

He looks up when the first guitar chord strikes and some eerily dodgy notes wheeze through the speakers. The venue unquestionably isn’t winning any awards for sound but volume must be what they’re after. The stage lights make a faint attempt at coming on but aren’t doing a whole lot for the stage. The band members are obviously used to this as they proceed to tune-up and check mics in the dark as the chatter of the crowd saturates the silence.

Tom is about to leave, the watered-down drinks, the delayed start time and the sweat dripping down his shirt not worth the hassle. Then the opening chord strikes and he watches as the horde gathered at the front nearly catapults towards the stage. The band begin and although it sounds rowdy and unpractised, Tom notices himself enjoying it. It’s reminiscent of a college band practice but with a bit more grit and edge to the singer’s vocals. He stands for the first song, nodding his head and watching as the set gradually starts to collect in front of his eyes. The light still isn’t positioned so the band play largely in the dark, only a vague red wash squeezing through enough for them to see their fingers. But they’re fully into it and so are the audience, he sees a mass of shadowed arms and spilt drinks tossed around the front. Tom begins to listen closely to the lyrics as he can scarcely see anything that’s happening in the smoky darkness.

[ _Play me like a record, baby_ ](https://youtu.be/UTVg-C61LZo)  
_Spin me around, turn me upside down_  
_And you don't want me to_  
_I'll pull the covers right up over your head_

He finds himself intrigued by the mess of words but endeared by the sentiment behind it all as a self-proclaimed romantic. The passion is there, the words are being yelled down the mic and the figures on stage are blurring with each note that crashes through the room, leaving chaos and screeching girls in its wake. Tom takes another sip before permanently deciding that the beer is not going to taste any better with time, in fact, it’s ageing quite like milk with the growing temperature of the room.

He veers towards the bar and politely waits until the bar staff are looking in his direction. Tom waves a young-looking male bartender over with a nod and a smile.  
“You got anythin’ that isn’t watered down in ‘ere?” he shouts over the music with a laugh, his accent becoming more prominent with the raised volume. The man is tilted towards him but his eyes are elsewhere.  
“Sorry, venue policy, what can I get you?” the young guy seems a lot more engrossed in the music than Tom, his gaze casting over periodically towards the stage.

“Uh, Jack and Coke please mate,” Tom decides to go with his default backup option but he fears just how diluted down both drinks will be. When the guy has finished splashing half of it over the counter in his haste to see the band uninterrupted and poured in the ice, there’s barely half the drink there. Tom stifles a snort and hesitantly hands over the cash even if it physically hurts him to have already spent virtually £9 on two drinks.

He samples it over the mat, holding it away from his body in case it’s ‘forced spit out-able’. Unsurprisingly, it’s watered down but the initial strength still burns the back of his throat with a tingle. It could have been worse so he takes it, finally set to have a moderately decent night out. Perhaps he’ll even get brave enough to take a guess at who bats for his team and then get even braver and actually _approach_ them.

He looks upwards and the sudden lack of tenebrosity startles him initially. His vision is packed with a scene that looks like it’s ripped straight out of a punk band’s music video. The red and white lights have at last been directed, with some degree of accuracy, towards the stage and the gaggle of arms now has phone screens and heads intertwined.

Tom steps closer, wanting to get involved now he was sure that he wasn’t leaving for a while. The music of the song dies down, the crowd cheers quickly chasing the noise like a rabbit with a mouse. The vivid white spotlight settles upon the singers face with an unstable aim and Tom peers up from his drink just as the man is fully visible for the first time. Tom’s breath nearly catches as he chokes on his drink and the cup suddenly seems like a 5-kilo weight in his palm.

The lead singer is _proper fit._

Not even just ‘maybe shag a few times’ attractive. Full on, 'take home to your parents, get down on one knee' kind of handsome. Blake straightens up, the night suddenly has a whole different purpose now. He feels like he was blinkered before, not able to identify the true excitement of where the gig could go. Now, he knows the potential of the evening. Please _god_ , be into blokes.

“Uh, hello. My name’s Will, but most of you here know me as Schofield,” there are a group of high pitched squeals that erupt like a trigger at the very mention of his name, he laughs.  
“Yeah, thanks. For anyone who doesn’t know, we’re Fleshlight and... thanks for having us, this next song is called My Honest Face, hope you enjoy it.” Will concludes with a grin, turning to his bandmate and nodding as a signal. Tom is initially a little deterred by Will’s lack of confidence and overall rock persona. But he finds himself amazed when, once the music starts, Will begins bounding around the stage. He’s lanky, way too tall for the low budget dive to accommodate, so he spends a lot of his time curved over. Occasionally, his mouth is pressed into the mic, body growing and falling with the beat as he spits out the lyrics.

[ _I could be Elvis on a Tuesday night_ ](https://youtu.be/H4slly0Bwjs)  
_1, 2, 3, 4, 5, alright_  
_I can look good in a certain light_  
_So don't look too closely at me tonight_

There’s no doubt these words came from Will, the insecurity oozes out as he shouts the words and the crowd chant them back at him. But he feeds off it nicely, his confidence growing gently like a balloon, rising as it fills with more vigour and tenacity.

By the chorus, he and the crowd could be mistaken for a riot, a mess of skinny jean clad limbs and hair sprayed fringes gather to headbang in tandem. The music is infectious and Tom finds himself loosening up and nodding his head more enthusiastically as the songs go on.

One blue-haired girl initiates a mosh pit to a particularly rowdy song and Tom enjoys watching half the crowd fling themselves around. He also gets a flare of heat run through his stomach at the pride in Will’s eyes. He can’t be sure but when Will caught his gaze, he swore he saw a nod of his head. A gesture to say ‘get in there’ incorporated with a smirk. Tom shakes his head whilst holding up his beer as an excuse and Will snickers, finishing up a guitar solo as the crowd collide violently like atoms.

By the end of the set, Tom has no confusion as to why his brother had suggested firmly that he give the band a chance. The music is impressive and their talent is undeniable, but Tom knows his brother is more than aware of his taste in men. Will could not fit the bill much better.

Tom discards his empty cup and heads towards the bar, half-heartedly perching on a stool as the lights rise and the damage of the night is fully realised. Enough plastic cups to bring down a small whale are compiled like a mini landfill on the ground and some of the frames had been knocked off-kilter by the riotous teenagers. Tom can tell he’s a little woozy, but fortunately not drunk enough to do anything he wouldn’t usually. It’s just eliminated the unnecessary thoughts rather than changing them entirely. He tries not to await what will happen now. He knows what he _wants_ to happen, but he can’t anticipate it.

He forces his eyes not to gawk at Will’s straining muscles and tune in to his worn-out grunts as the band begin trudging amps through the fire exit and hauling mazes of wires around the stage. It’s not quite the epitome of rock star glamour but it seems routine for them regardless. Beside them, a group in matching t-shirts with the band's logo embellished on the chest huddle together and eagerly point at the setlist when any staff member nears their side. Once it’s handed over and they’ve fought over it, they disperse, clear in their intentions as they descend on the merchandise table. Given their attire and how well they’d been reciting the lyrics, Tom figures they probably aren’t shopping and are more likely waiting for the band. He hangs back, not wanting to be that one creepy guy chilling around a little too close.

Eventually, the stage is bare and the band emerge, sweaty and red-faced. This is the fans cue and groups of 2-4 slowly swarm around each member. CD’s and posters are nudged towards them as they sign and take pictures. By now any casual gig-goers are already halfway home so Tom doesn’t blend in like before, he doesn’t mind though. He sort of wants to stick out.

The fans are swapping between members, a few now leaving with signed memorabilia and wide grins, all beaming at their phones. Tom smirks at how the band seem to be eyeing each other, simultaneously thinking that perhaps this means they’re actually cool now. The girls get what they wanted, one even managing to ask for a kiss on the cheek, before they begin to shove their jackets on and call whoever is picking them up.

Tom is about to leave, vowing that when he comes for the next gig (which he will) he’ll get in before they do so he doesn’t have to sit through the signing session when he notices Will coming up to him. He acts like he hadn’t seen him moving, mostly to make him feel at ease.

“Hi, I’m Will from the band. You must be new here,” Will introduces and puts his hand out to shake. Tom looks down at it, switching out the arm his jacket is hanging on.  
“Sorry, bit sweaty,” Will adds with a breathy laugh but Tom eagerly takes the chance to grasp it anyway. The guy’s hands are straight from Tom’s wet dreams, his veiny fingers and spread palm nearly envelop his hand. He swallows thickly as Will’s other hand scratches the hair at the base of his neck, showing off the definition in his upper arms.

“T-Tom, but most people call me Blake. Yeah, my brother recommended I check you out. I loved it,” Tom wasn’t sure if he was coming on too strong with the compliment but the way it makes Will’s eyes light up is worth it.  
“Oh thanks, yeah we play here every few nights so we’re slowly getting better,” Will shrugs off the praise in a demure yet somewhat self-assured way. He speaks deep and in broken sentences but every word that rumbles from his lips sounds sincere. Tom is enthralled and is about to ask one of the many questions flowing down his thoughts, sparking from ‘did I hear a bit of Bowie referenced in that song?’ to ‘would you be interested in maybe taking me home, throwing me on the bed and shagging me senseless?’.

He never gets a chance to ask either of those as one of Will’s bandmates walks up and slaps a hand on his shoulder. Will turns around, somewhat startled as his eyes widen and lips part.  
“We’re goin’ round Leslie’s house for a jam if you wanna come,” the man offers as he slides on his leather jacket effortlessly, the lingering smell that wafts his way with the movement makes Tom’s stomach churn. Will ponders for a second, a low ‘uh’ drawn out from the depths of his voice box as he bites his lip.

“Yeah alright, but I’m not using that fucking cajon again, you can tell Baumer to burn that thing,” Will seems jokingly annoyed and Tom senses he’s awkwardly intruding on an inside moment. He has a brief flash of wishing he was that close to Will, that he had jokes with him that others didn’t get. Moments isolated together that meant something to them and could raise a smile just by hinting toward it. He dismissed that instantly, thinking it was dumb, he’d barely known this man for a few hours.

“Sorry about that, do you wanna come? It’s just a friends house down the street,” Will politely proposed to Tom and typically Tom would say no, go home and play video games until he fell asleep. He isn't sure what it is, the crappy alcohol in his system, the late night or the fact he’s actually bothered to leave the house for once that makes him say yes.  
“I don’t play any music or owt though,” Tom worriedly replies, struggling not to show his sudden nervousness over the situation. Will shakes his head, a new type of smile on his face that suggested he is well aware of how the night is going to go.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be playing more than enough I’m sure,” Will elbows him and strides away, getting to the door and glancing back to confirm Tom is following. He hastily scrambles to put his jacket on and follows behind, hissing as he steps into the brisk air. His fingers are fumbling with his pocket buttons, shifting it around until he can cram a hand inside. He assumes he has gloves but the lack of fabric bundled in there says otherwise, they must be in his padded jacket.  
“Bollocks,” he huffs to himself, curling his hands into fists and willing the sweatiness of his clammy palms to bring feeling back to his fingers.

Will shuts the door and they begin walking together, Tom taking 2 steps for every stride Will seems to take.  
“So, do you usually go to gigs or are we special?” Will asks, his voice surprisingly serious. Almost like there’s an ulterior motive behind the question yet Tom isn’t actually sure what such a benign statement could be hinting at. He tries to unclench his jaw and stop his breath from appearing in pants as he answers.  
“Just been trying to get back out the house more y’know,” Tom answers honestly before severely kicking himself internally. That sounded like the lamest answer he could have produced, he may as well have said ‘I’m depressingly lonely’ and been done with it.

“I know what you mean, it’s why I joined the band,” Will replied, providing just enough information to tell Tom he wasn’t alone but not enough to imply he wanted to expand on the topic. Tom understood that, he sends a knowing smile Will’s way and noticed that Will consistently seemed to have something lingering there. He couldn’t truly ever reach a full smile, something is holding it back. Now instead of getting him to bed, Tom began to get more intrigued as to who Will was as a person.

“Did you write all of those songs?” Tom asked just as they passed a beaten down fast food place, Camden certainly wasn’t the best place for a romantic walk. Will looked down, for the first time he actually seemed a little agitated.  
“Yeah, there’s only 2 of us in the band that can write lyrics so we do all of the songs. But I’m no good at the melody, get the others to do that,” Will chuckles breathily, reaching up and dragging a hand through his hair. The wind will destroy it piece by piece but he clearly cares about his looks enough to right it every so often. Tom wished he cared about his appearance in that way, but then again he didn’t have to get up on stage all the time.

He thinks about Will's answer, wondering whether to give another word of praise when an image of Will sat at home scribbling into a journal came to mind. The wholesome scene looked incredibly domestic and he wondered if that’s what tonight would be, Tom wouldn’t survive if it was.

“They’re bloody good, way better than I could ever do anyway,” Tom can’t resist peppering in another compliment just to see if Will’s eyes gleam as they did previously. They don’t, in fact, his face doesn’t change much, instead, he uses that to shift the topic onto Tom.  
“Ah, not a writer yourself then?” Will inquires, looking up as he checks the street signs and steers them around a corner where the wind thankfully lessens. Tom scarcely resists cupping his hands over his ears with how much they’re burning but he refuses, he’s withstood much worse.

“I used to tell stories sometimes, but my brother tells me they’re shit,” Tom notices that information is pulled from him before he can even process if it’s something he wanted to share. He finds himself craving to be sympathised with, in a pathetic sort of childish way. He wants to give Will information that only they share, that way maybe he can feel closer to someone even with the limited facts Will offers up.

“Ah stories, not much of a story man myself,” Will seems like he has a history with that topic that’s simmering low in the conversation. Tom fleetingly speculates if it’s linked to the earlier hint of being lonely. That should have been an astonishingly obvious hint to not recount a story but Tom finds the kid in him is making itself known again.

“Well, I have one about the last time I went to see a band. It was a disaster. Did you hear about Jumping the Gun?” Tom asked and although Will didn’t seem totally enthused, he played along for a reason as yet unknown.  
“I know of the band but no, what happened?” He asked quietly, glaring more at the pavement and the houses around them than at Tom. Sporadically he’d huff out a breath and bounce on his toes to stay warm, rubbing his glove-clad palms together. God, Tom didn’t know which he craved more, Will’s hands in his or his gloves.

“The lead singer, right, he’d had two girls on the go at once. So one of his missus comes up to the front and she’s proper raging, screaming so loud. So the lead singer asks her what she’s so mad about and then the second girl comes up behind her and starts yelling too. They’re going mental and security starts pulling them away but the lead guy was so embarrassed he cut the show and left. They’d only done like, four songs! A few months later the band split up because it turns out, the second girl he’d been banging was the drummer’s sister!” Tom describes as he gestures with his hands and ends it with a laugh. He lets it die down but is shortly met with silence which was not what he had counted on.

Tom abruptly feels shame wash over him and he curls in on himself, forcing his lips shut and hoping he didn’t completely mess up the whole thing. His delusion with believing his stories are greater than they actually are wrecked a good moment between them. He began reflecting that maybe Joe's criticisms were legitimate, that’s when Will looks over at him and catches his eye. He sidesteps closer and has a seconds hesitation before planting a kiss on Tom’s cheek.  
“I think your brother was wrong, you’re great at telling stories,” Will says half of the sentence in his ear before trailing away and shoving the gate open.

Tom is stood there, frozen and amazed by the experience. The way the kiss had been so roughly buried into his dimple yet his lips had been so tender on the cold skin. The smell of his cologne that still remained in the misty clouds of Tom’s breath. The deep rumbling voice that had practically growled praise in his ear.

“Come on, it’s fucking cold!” Will exclaims from the door and Tom rushes to catch up, his head still buzzing like a teenager experiencing their first crush. He gets inside and barely remembers setting his coat on the stairs or being guided to the living room where a rowdy group of men are all collected in a lazy circle like a school assembly.

Will clutches a beer, knocking the cap off with the edge of the sofa while passing Tom one too. Everything is in a haze, spiralling like a whirlwind while Tom reels in his own head. He lets Will manoeuvre him towards the floor in the only gap there is left. He doesn’t dare open his mouth for fear of what comments might spill out, plus Will looks like he’s settled into this environment. It’s only the soft and steady hand being placed on his thigh as they sit cross-legged that entices him back down to earth. As everybody chats and gets set up, he feels like the fog has lifted and he turns to his right, dopey smile on his face.

Tom observes Will laughing at a joke made by someone opposite him, his face looks temporarily free like this is where he belongs. His dimples appear deep in his delicate, pale skin and the curve of his nose looks so fragile when lit by artificial light. He follows the line around, studying Will's friends, most of them tuning up some sort of instrument.

He’s almost getting to the person Will had been chatting to when he feels an elbow dig into his side on the left. His head whips across, suddenly he remembers that Will isn’t the only person who can actually see him in this room and he’s probably looked like a drunken idiot since he stepped through the door.

“Sorry?” Tom says upon recognizing he wasn’t paying attention the first time.  
“I said, want a bit?” the guy repeats while blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth. Tom is about to ask what he means when a second line of smoke drifts into his view. He follows it down to where a small spliff is tucked between the man’s fingers. They’re not as well manicured or as clean as Will’s, they’re cigarette stained like his.

“Yeah alright,” Tom nods, always one for jumping in without logic but just as he manoeuvres the joint and leads it up to his lips, it’s seized from him.  
“ _Whoa_ , Leslie, you can’t be giving him this stuff,” Will sounds a little panicked with a hint of pissed off as he shakes his head and shoots a look of ‘what the fuck’ to him. It would be so hot if Tom didn’t feel like a child being told off by his mother. Will must see his offended expression because he leans down, joint still kept between his finger and thumb. Tom has to concentrate or he could waste hours staring at how the weed dangles carefully from his hand.

“Sorry, he should have never offered it to you. This has got some heavy shit in it, so unless you wanna spend half the night screaming about wasps in your ear, I’d suggest a pass,” Will explained but still took a drag himself, temporarily stretching his head as far from Tom as he could and blowing the smoke away. He fanned it with his hand to ventilate the air before leaning back. Tom raised an eyebrow as Will continued to pass it on to the next person.

“We’re used to his wacky concoctions trust me, you’re not. Ask next time someone offers you a blunt, yeah?” Will doesn’t sound demanding or overpowering, Tom knows he could easily still ask for it. But Will is being protective, his tone and expression showing fierce worry about how easily Tom had accepted.

“Yeah, sometimes I just get carried away. It’s stupid,” Tom berates himself, he can’t believe he’s behaving like the child he is repeatedly told he is, jumping in headfirst without even considering the repercussions. And it feels worse because it’s in front of _Will_. The embodiment of a mature, sophisticated, put-together man. He knows realistically that Will has to be older than him, even with the excuse of his baby face making him look younger, there’s still no denying there’s an age gap. But for Will to have called him out like that, it feels like the gap got pried apart even more.

Tom feels more ridiculous as the seconds tick by. Maybe he should never have come. He looks down, the words ‘I’m gonna go’ are lingering on his lips. This world isn’t for him. His brother, his home, his videogames. Those are reliable and although they might be lonely, it’s better than sounding like a fool.

“It’s not stupid, I did the same and nobody bothered to stop me, that’s how I know... I can get you some weed if you want, if that’s what you’re worried about?” Will inquires while tilting in, making sure nobody else hears. Tom’s plea to leave dies when he senses Will’s lips so close to his and his panting breaths dissolving on his reddened cheeks. Maybe this world isn’t for him, but it’s obviously for Will, so he stays put.

“It’s okay, I’m good with a beer,” Tom nods, knowing he’s safe with alcohol, he knows it marginally better than weed. He could surely tell if that had been spiked with something. Although maybe he should have checked, didn’t Will open it though? Tom considers and elects he should stay off the beer to avert another embarrassing moment.

“Alright lads, had enough gossip. Wanna actually play something tonight,” the man yells, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. Will leans back on his straightened arm, his shoulder now in constant contact with Tom’s.  
“That’s Baumer,” he murmurs and Tom nods, mouth open as he hears instruments begin to come together.

“Hey, Muller, Honeypie?” Will requests and for a second Tom thinks he just got played big time and Muller is actually Will’s boyfriend. That is until the band groans and exclaims they do _not_ want to play that song. Will persists, no matter how many pillows and ‘ _eurgh Scho’s_ ’ come his way. He shoots Tom a knowing smile as he warms his voice up and they start to play. He recognises it immediately once the tinny guitar noise begins, he wasn’t sure how he missed it from the title alone. _Jumping The Gun_ , so he _was_ listening.

[ _Oh, boy, don’t you stop,_ ](https://youtu.be/Wgw6tJ8yz9M)  
_Don’t you stop ‘til you get enough,_  
_Oh, oh honey honey pie,_  
_Honey, honey, honeypie,_

Tom’s face virtually splits open in a grin as Will relaxes. He can sense the effect music has on Will’s entire body, when he sings, all of his quietness fades. He begins poking Tom’s cheek and resting his chin on Tom’s shoulder in instrumental breaks.

The night is soundtracked by a mix of Fleetwood Mac covers and demos that Tom had been informed they were working on earlier. After Will complains his throat is beginning to get hoarse, they move on to just instrumentals. Most of the gathering are faintly chattering anyway. Will uncrosses his legs and gets up, offering Tom a hand up alongside him. He leads them out onto a wooden balcony, of sorts, it essentially looks like something out of an American sitcom.

Will lugs a chair around, wincing as it scrapes on the deck and Tom huffs down in the chair next to him. They settle in silence for a while, letting the hint of guitar riffs drift past them on its way out toward the open air. Will takes a drag of the spliff they’d been exchanging earlier, his eyes flitting around in what Tom expects are vague hallucinations. It’s at that point when a question he’d been pondering earlier popped into his head and it seemed as good a time as any to ask it.

“Why did you pick Fleshlight as the band’s name? Seems a bit dirty dunnit?” Tom asks with a breathy laugh, taking the first sip of his beer as a reward for his courage in breaking the silence. Will chuckles, taking what must be the last feasible hit on the stump left crumbling between his fingers.  
“Named it after my one true love,” Schofield deadpans with a hint of a smirk jeopardizing his cover. Tom laughs, shaking his head just as Will reaches over.

He takes Tom’s chin in his hands, his elegant fingers digging into Tom’s rounded cheeks. Will drifts in and Tom is anticipating another kiss until he observes the whispers of smoke oozing from Will’s mouth. He leans in, parting his plump, glistening lips as if to say ‘give me it, I want everything you have to offer’.

Will lets his eyes flutter shut as they pass the smoke between them, Tom struggling not to choke on it but ultimately managing to blow it away in a sensual way. Will keeps him hooked in that moment as he presses the tips of their wind-frosted noses together. Tom’s heart palpitates at the warm breath he’s sharing with Will, it feels like they’re breathing simultaneously as one.

Tom senses a soft, wet warmth flicker at his lips and he realises that Will’s tongue is coaxing his, urging them to touch. Tom hesitantly obliges, not certain on where they’re heading but entirely on board with how things are progressing. Tom feels a flicker of self-doubt, something telling him that Will is too experienced, too worldly, he’ll get something wrong and Will is bound to mock him for it. The second their tongues touch and Tom gets a taste of the weed and alcohol Will had been on, all his uncertainties vanish.

They take it slow, dragging together like rope pulling an anchor up from the seabed before ultimately they snap like magnets. Their open mouths make for a chaotic first kiss but Will knows what he’s doing as he lets his tongue glide over Tom’s bottom lip. They make out lazily, too wet and too needy but neither care. Eventually, Will pulls back, sucking in Tom’s bottom lip before he does. Tom whimpers, reaching up hopelessly and trying to pull Will back to him but instead, he feels a finger against his lips.

“Come home?” Will speaks in a questioning tone, so deep and soft that Tom barely recognises it. His eyes are still lidded and a broken whine is still stuck in his throat.  
“Yes, please,” he answers with a crack in his voice. Will takes his hand and leads them back inside, the snap of the door shutting capturing everyone’s attention. Will leans over to where he’d been sitting and yanks his jacket from the floor, taking one last drink of his beer whilst keeping their fingers interlocked. Tom keeps his eyes on the ground as jeering chants from their drunk and high audience get increasingly more disturbing.

“Oi, oi, get in there Will,” one of his friends says as he pats him on the back. Tom doesn’t think Will introduced him, but maybe he did and Tom just forgot. Will shakes his head, “you’re disgusting Malky,” he mutters with an eye roll and leads them out the door.

“See you later lads,” Will shouts once they’re in the corridor. Tom carelessly fumbles with his coat and he’s barely managed to squeeze it over his shoulders before he’s shoved against the bannister and Will’s kissing him again. He appears to have a thing for surprise kisses but Tom is absolutely not complaining.

Tom’s arms rest around Will’s neck as their making out session gets hornier until Tom’s crotch is essentially humping Will’s leg. Will manoeuvres Tom’s head to the side and places loving kisses along his neck, their mixed spit leaving marks before Will goes back and sucks, hard. Tom gives out a moan, his head crashing back with a dull thud on the wood behind him. Will proceeds to bite marks over Tom’s neck until there are more bruises than skin.

Tom’s dick is gradually getting harder, he prays Will doesn’t notice but he’s nearly certain it’s poking directly into the older man’s thigh. Will pulls away, his pupils blown and his mouth swollen. Eyes darting around the corridor to see if anyone is appearing, he shifts his crotch towards Tom.

“Okay?” Will asks, this is the only evidence of insecurity he’s revealed so far. Tom tilts as far back as he can, confirming nobody is around before nodding and giggling, biting his lip. Will’s hips don’t have much movement without the music but Tom’s certainly do, his hips roll whilst giving his dick the friction he needs. Will leans in, his breath scorching on Tom’s heated skin as his broad hands reach down and squeeze Tom's thick thighs.

He kisses Tom occasionally to mute the noise but Tom's tongue is doing obscene things which ends up enticing more moans out of him. It's dangerous and filthy, but that's what sends the spark of heat tearing down Tom's spine. He truly feels like he's living, getting his rocks off grinding on Will's thigh like a slut.

“Fucking _come_ ,” he says, reaching up and tugging on Tom’s hair at the same time. Will doesn't know it, but that is the one action that sends him over the edge so Tom does as he’s told. His legs go weak and his eyelashes flutter as he shoots his load directly into his boxers and skinny jeans. Tom’s moans are high and fortunately stifled by the angle his head tips back at.

He pants as his dick twitches for the last time and his body gives in to the satisfaction of letting go. Will’s forehead falls to rest on Tom's shoulder and he’s giggling, most likely at the fact that they couldn't even make it out of the door. Once they’ve both calmed down, Will leans into Tom’s ear, "that's something to think about while we get back,” he smirks and Tom knows the night is about to get a whole lot dirtier.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half smut so please be warned! Also there is some pretty angsty and upsetting content towards the end so if you need to skip that part just write a comment and I'll tell you what happens without the detail.

As soon as they’re through the door, Will is wrestling off Tom’s clothes urgently. His calloused fingers are tugging at the fabric as they press firm kisses to each other's lips. Tom can scarcely believe this is happening, a lifetime of his brothers taunting has led up to this. Tom stumbles as he is led up the stairs, not once suspending their contact, before Will gives up and hauls Tom’s thighs around his waist. If Tom hadn’t been carried, his knees would have gone weak at how smoothly Will swooped him up.

“I want you so fucking bad,” Will mutters, his words a contradiction to the gentle way he places Tom on the bed. Tom watches keenly as Will discards his shirt off in seconds and he practically launches at Will’s body, so much more defined than his own.

“Want you too, need it Will,” Tom murmurs against Will’s pale skin, as his lips tantalise around Will’s chest. Tom is grateful when Will casts his eyes down exactly as Tom drags his tongue flat over Will’s nipple whilst looking directly at him with his wide, innocent eyes. It’s something he’s observed a lot in porn and by the hungry gaze he is thrown, it seems to have worked.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Will grunts and Tom feels Will’s palm cup the back of his head. He plants one of his hands further down to Will’s jeans, massaging his aching hard on. He decides that Will already gave him an orgasm so he owes it to Will to get him off too. If he’s being entirely honest, he’s never done this before but he figures it can’t be that complex. Tom releases the button on Will’s jeans and takes out his dick. _Christ,_ that is a lot to fit in his mouth. He gulps but continues as the pressure on the back of his head urges him forward.

He holds it in his hand and envelops his lips around the tip, gradually bobbing his head and inching it in deeper. Will is groaning overhead and Tom can discern Will’s thighs trembling in his peripheral vision. He grows more eager, descending further and flicking his tongue along the length. He feels fingers delve deep into his hair and he whimpers, crossing his legs and praying he can hold his own release back. The vibrations make the hold firmer and Tom focuses on striving to take Will to the back of his throat as a distraction.

He can taste Will twitching and leaking where he’s resisting his gag reflex and he squeezes his dick to diminish the ache. He moans at the friction and Will practically melts, his knees momentarily faltering as he attempts to stay standing. Tom isn't conscious of the spit leaking from the corners of his mouth until he senses it landing on the floor, hopefully that's supposed to happen.

Whatever he’s doing seems to be good enough for Will who is grunting and whining above him. He doesn’t seem like a particularly vocal man in bed, only uttering fleeting phrases, so Tom delights in every stuttered whimper that shunts out of his throat. Tom begins to unwind more now they’re in a rhythm and he can take more pleasure from the way Will seems wholly at ease letting go and thrusting far into his mouth. Every minute jolt of the hand in his hair is enough to send his eyes rolling to the back of his head, be feels like he’s being used and he fucking loves it.

“Using your throat like a fucking fleshlight,” Will comments with a smirk while glancing down, pupils black with lust. An idea promptly springs to Tom’s mind as he opens his lidded eyes. He pulls off Will, a string of spit uniting the tip of Will’s dick to Tom’s puffed lips.

“C-Can we use one?” Tom asks unsurely, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Will cups his cheek, smearing a thumb along his bottom lip and that causes goosebumps to erupt entirely over Tom’s flushed body.  
“You’re sinful... jesus,” Will murmurs to himself, his eyes glazed, “yeah, you wanna see what’s so good about it huh?” Will laughs whilst gazing around the room in an effort to locate it. Tom nods earnestly, too clouded by the fact that he’s about to handle a sex toy for the first time to reflect about how Will’s ass looks when he bends down.

Will hauls open his draw and launches a half-used bottle of lube and a torch looking device on the duvet casually. Tom’s heart is in his throat as he clumsily shuffles his jeans off when Will approaches, cringing at the dried come that is still in his underwear. He isn’t sure how this is going to work but he’s ready to have a fucking great orgasm that’s for sure.

“Shit, you still had the underwear on? You should've said,” Will sympathises in shock, a soft smile on his face as his eyebrows are drawn in. Tom shakes his head in dismissal, his eyes still trained on the object between them. Will spreads his hands up and down Tom’s thighs in what he assumes is an apology before Will positions himself resting with his back against the headboard. He motions for Tom to sit in his lap, the sound of his hands patting his exposed thighs too much for Tom to process. Tom unskillfully climbs over, not sure how it will work.

“Okay, just gonna...” Will covers both their hard dicks in lube before holding them together. The feeling of Will’s dick opposite his is incredible, Tom is dripping down Will’s fingers at the sight. Tom’s breath catches and gets held in his lungs as the device descends down over both of them. The soft plastic envelops both of them in such a remarkably tight squeeze.  
“Holy _shit_ ,” Tom presses his eyes shut as they roll back into his head and lets a long breath out.  
“You like that baby?” Will asks in such a tender and delicate tone that Tom nearly melts. He assumes it can’t get much better as it eases down but then Will steadily begins to move it and Tom’s pretty sure this is what heaven feels like.

He tilts forward, caught in an overwhelming sense of pleasure as he kisses Will. He craves them to be as physically close as possible. Wants to explore every inch of his skin and taste every tremor his muscles make. His fingers grasp at the short brown hair, messing up that distinct quiff he attempts to maintain. He notices Will’s hand is regularly switching between his stomach and thighs so he takes Will’s hand in his to prevent himself feeling too conscious of it. Will’s eyes open at the unexpected motion and a smile raises on his face as if he notices why his hands have been allocated elsewhere. Tom’s hand gets laid on the toy while Will’s hands roam his stomach and thighs again, pressing kisses to his bruised neck.

“So beautiful, wanted you the second you walked in the room.” Will squeezes Tom’s ass and pulls him closer so their shoulders are almost touching.  
“I-I’m getting close,” Tom admits, feeling his toes curl as his hand speeds up. He feels as inexperienced as he is but he hopes Will is too preoccupied to notice. Will plants a kiss on his cheek, such an innocent gesture in such a filthy situation.  
“Me too, keep going,” Will encourages and Tom begins thrusting up to meet his hand. That evidently works wonders for Will as his hips twitch involuntarily.

They moan in tandem as their orgasm’s draw closer. Tom can sense the heat stirring low and he recognises exactly what he needs to pull him over. He has a fleeting flash of worry before the white-hot desperation shadows everything else.  
“P-Pull my hair?” Tom asks in pants, eyes screwed and mouth open. For a split, pleasure-hazed second, Tom swears he observes Will’s body freeze and initially Will hesitates. Tom holds back as strenuously as he can, his body urging to let go but he can’t until he knows Will is okay with this. Then fingers are tenderly lacing across his scalp and he relaxes instinctively.

“So this is what worked last time then? Kinky boy, I like it,” Will chuckles, delicately twirling the hair around with a taunting smile. He feels Will teasing and almost whines at the pure frustration until Will’s face drops, he suddenly makes a fist and yanks, _hard_. Tom’s mouth opens and a low, raw shout erupts from his chest as he comes so hard he forgets to breathe.

“Scho, fuck,” Tom moans before he can even register what he’s saying. His come paints both the toy, his own fingers and Will’s cock in pulses as he shudders and his hips buck. He keeps going and only a few seconds after, his eyes are greeted with the glorious sight of Will exploding over his hand. If he wasn’t spent, he could easily come at the feeling of Will’s dick jerking against his. Tom loosens the toy off them and Will takes it, placing it on the desk. Tom maintains his place as best he can, uncertain if he’s entitled to fall into the comfort of Will’s arms or if he’ll be escorted to the shower and out the door.

“Scho, eh?” Will’s eyebrow raises, “well at least I hope it was Scho. Or you just said someone else’s name,” Will comments in amusement. Tom realises that must have been what he said when he came, oh god.  
“I don’t know where that came from, sorry,” Tom shakes his head as Will hands him a tissue. He cleans the come from his fingers regretfully, wishing he could have swallowed it instead. Then he wipes his dick, narrowly avoiding asking Will if he wants him to clean his too. Then finally, he moves on to his stomach, suddenly realising most of his insecurities are on show.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” Will remarks out of the blue upon observing Tom poking his bellybutton with a tissue. He reaches up and tucks that one stray curl away from Tom’s head. Tom isn’t quite sure how to respond, if he could blush any harder he would have.  
“I-I, thanks,” he stutters, the actuality that he just got off with someone properly for the first time starts to sink in. Before that thought can settle its worrying roots, Will arches his back and hauls the duvet out from under them. Tom only recognises he’s supposed to be getting in with Will when he’s sat on the part Will is attempting to lift. Tom apologises with a grimace, slips in and is pulled into Will’s side. They fall asleep that way, too content to worry and wrapped soothingly in each other.

Tom arises after Will, he knows this because he sees his clothes folded neatly on Will’s side of the bed. His heart flutters at how Will must have gone down the stairs and picked up every discarded item along the way. He yawns and sits up, checking his phone and seeing 5 missed calls from Joe and what looks like double the texts. If Joe wasn’t always doing the same thing to him, he would feel nervous.

 **Brother:** _where r u?_  
**Brother:** _hello?_  
**Brother:** _?? Tom?_  
**Brother:** _its like 9pm ur either dead or getting some and i dont know which i wish it was more_  
**Brother:** _u better get ur arse home soon i’m not coming to get u_  
**Brother:** _fine enjoy ur gig ur the worst_  
**Brother:** _ur washing is done and u can say thanks to the best big brother in the world latr u dirty stopout_

Tom scoffs, writing out a quick ‘fuck you, I’ll be home soon’ before hearing a clatter from downstairs. He touches his phone to his lips and thinks about last night. It resembles a distant memory now, hovering somewhere in the peaceful part of his trail of thought. He leaps over the details, hoping it’s alike to the rule of repeating something 3 times out loud to commit it to memory. He reminisces about the way Will’s hips jerked and the bursts of breath that were forced out of his lungs when the angle was precise. Tom smirks to himself, acknowledging he’s covered in bruises yet he can’t find it in himself to care one bit.

He gets dressed warily, the after-effects still working their magic on his arse. He doesn’t have any fresh clothes but Will has been gracious enough to give him some unsoiled underwear at least. He momentarily wonders where his are now before heading downstairs. He tries to be quiet as the closer he gets, the stronger he can hear Will harmonising along to the radio as he makes breakfast. It’s an old song, one he used to hear his grandfather playing on his crackly compact radio.

[_I’m only going over Jordan,_](https://youtu.be/fp7mdSMNQB0)  
_I’m only going over home,_

Tom leans by the doorframe, observing the muscles in Will’s shoulders tense as he transfers the pans off the heat and slides the egg off onto the plate. Tom bites his lip, knowing he wants to wander over there and wrap his arms around the softness of Will’s hips. He isn’t sure if that’s what Will wants though so he hangs back. Waiting, he follows as Will shuts everything off and then he strikes. Tom plods in and senses Will tense under him before unwinding into Tom’s arms. Tom stifles a smile into Will’s shoulder as he whispers a soft ‘morning’. The effect on Will is immediate and suddenly his abs are rock hard again. Tom mimics him, his body stiffening up and his head pulling back. He’s made a mistake, he can tell.

“Uh, morning,” Will mumbles, twisting subtly out of Tom’s grip. He lets his arms fall and tries not to let his face drop with them. Will isn’t happy, perhaps he regrets last night. Will plates the rest up in silence, the scraping of the pans cringing. He only glances up to shove Tom’s plate hesitantly across the table but no emotion is given with it. This definitely isn’t good.

Tom eats quickly and in silence, only asking a few questions which are met with vague hums and non-committing nods of Will’s head. He queries in his head if there’s anything he can say that will elevate the mood and end the agonising clench of being on edge. He almost apologises, before realising that would draw attention to last night's events and that seems like the worst conceivable idea judging by Will’s expression. 

It’s in his eyes still, a lot more obvious now. Whatever is holding him back from smiling is exactly what is dragging him away from joy now. Will appears to be accustomed to this, he doesn’t stammer on a breath like he wants to speak or complain to himself when he drops his knife as Tom does. This is routine for him and that bears Tom’s mood down just as low as Will’s is. Tom gives up attempting to pretend like they had something, feeling utterly used and uncommonly embarrassed. He pushes the last of his food around, his head replaying specifically when it could have gone wrong until Will takes his plate to the sink.

“Right, I, uh, gotta go to work so I’ll text you,” Will states and Tom understands that as his cue to leave considering Will doesn’t even have his number. He attempts not to look like a kicked puppy as he winces with each step whilst walking out of the door ahead of Will. The tube station isn’t far and although he’s still not feeling too great, he estimates he can at least make it there before he dies of shame.

By the time he’s home, his head is aching and his body isn’t performing much better. He nearly bites anyone’s head off who dares to smirk at the bruises littering every square inch of his skin. 

Tom Blake has been played by an amateur rockstar looking for a one night stand.

He didn’t think he’d ever be that stupid. He fumbles with his key, selecting the wrong one 4 times and furiously jamming it into the lock before the door ultimately opens and he’s met with his brother’s cocky face.  
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in eh,” Joe snorts but Tom brushes it off, placing a hand in front of the older man as he marches past and flops down face first on the sofa.

“So come on, did you bag a rockstar you dirty boy?” Joe pokes Tom’s shoulder and Tom hopes if he pinches his eyes shut long enough he’ll never have to see his brother’s stupid face again.  
“Leave me ‘lone,” Tom pouts like a baby, now in full moping mode after having time to think it all over. He deserves a good sulk. He can clearly see Joe is examining him in silence, he just chooses to conserve his breath for more beneficial things, like whining about how Will ignored him and... well, that's important enough. Things are fine until the collar of Tom's jacket slips and exposes his neck.

“Bloody hell, did you get mauled by a bear on your way ‘ere?” Joe says, leaning in to examine the bruises, “either that or someone else has tried my long-awaited mission to strangle you, nearly succeeded too by the looks of it.” Tom responds by throwing up his middle finger and slumping the jacket back up. Tom feels a cardboard box scrape his back and watches as the box of what turns out to be Nurofen clatters to the floor. He projects a cushion back at Joe who is slipping on his coat by the front door, he’s still refusing to speak to him.  
“Right, I’m off to work because _some_ of us actually have to pay rent and can’t go out shagging rockstars and snorting coke all night, see ya!” Joe calls as he leaves, not hanging around long enough to hear Tom’s ‘fuck off’ groan.

He allows himself to moan for an hour while making it through 2 episodes of friends and a gone off cheese bagel and then he decides that’s enough. He could either return to the Camden bar at some point in the ensuing few days and try his most genuine attempt at consoling the busted remains of their feeble attempt at a relationship. Or... he’ll remain at home with solely his right hand for company and his brother snoring in the adjoining room.

To his credit, even as he is pacing towards the tube station, he still hasn’t wholly made up his mind yet. The scarf he’s borrowed (some would stay stolen but what are big brothers for if not to wear their clothes) is already getting on his nerves but he refuses to let Will feast on the satisfaction of knowing, even days after the fact, he’s marked his territory and abandoned it.

Tom draws his feet inward as he sits on the tube, his mind seems similar to a bull in a china shop. He has so many thoughts racing around and it’s simply a matter of time before one of them trips upon something that makes him snap. On the one occasion he gazes up, he spies a couple across from him. He feels a twinge of envy and a further prominent streak of embarrassment as he studies the way she giggles and plants a kiss on his cheek.

He projects him and Will into the image to test out what it would be like hearing his slow drawl asking what stop they’re getting off at. He imagines reaching over and delicately uniting their hands, setting them on his lap without any thought. They look natural, like having each other there is merely second nature. That’s when Tom’s mood sinks. He’s behaving like a teenager. The guy clearly doesn’t want him, that much was apparent by his performance on that morning. So why is he rushing so far and fast for something that’s so unbelievably unrealistic? They are a one night stand and maybe that’s where it’s supposed to stay.

Tom toys with the edge of his scarf, determined he’ll get off at the next stop and ignore that this ever happened. Joe won’t discover it if he hurries back and maybe he’ll even garner some sympathy if he’s pouty enough. That is until he observes a tap on his shoulder and a purposeful one at that. His head whips up and he vaguely recognises the person sat beside him. The plentiful brown hair and youthful grin are sparking memories related to Will. But then again, so is everything else so that’s not an accurate gauge.

“Hey, sorry, I’m Dan. I think I saw you at our gig?” the guy says with a squint as if he’s unsure he’s got the correct person. Tom’s heart halts, like suddenly a metal cage is bolted around it and the pressure is unbearable. A tide of nausea hits him and he knows he recognises the cause. It’s that weed-smelling leather jacket again.  
“Yeah that was me,” he confesses before the idea that he could just claim Dan is mistaken springs into his mind. The guy doesn’t look phased at all, merely brushes his shoulder-length hair back off his face.

“You were with Will, right? After Leslie’s thing?” He questions and Tom swears his cheeks blaze up in embarrassment. He hadn’t yet thought about the fact that everyone there presumably knew what they were doing. They probably understood Tom was only another groupie, they’d laugh as he was escorted through the door and join him to the list of Will’s unrelenting one night stands. Tom nods, not able to find the words.

“Well, you got lucky there mate, I tell you. We joke that Will is made of stone, never shows any emotion at all so you must have done something right,” Dan shrugs amidst a laugh as he adapts his bag straps on his shoulders. Tom’s brain short circuits for a minute before realising it sounds about right. He abruptly recalls the way Will had twisted out of his arms and avoided his gaze over breakfast.  
“Whatever I did, it wasn’t right that’s for sure,” Tom responds honestly, toying with his fingers and eyeing the door. Exactly as he concludes this is his moment to get away, Dan speaks.

“You coming to the gig tonight?”

With these words, Tom’s whole plan is shredded apart. If he says yes, he’ll have to go, Dan will presumably walk all the way there beside him. If he says no then Dan will mention he saw him heading towards the gig to Will. He’s too far out on the tube now for it not to be questionable. Tom nods before he opens his mouth, uttering a humble yes but not anticipating Dan’s reaction. He isn’t as bothered as Tom envisioned he would be, he beams with a hasty ‘cool, should be good’ and a flick of his hair.

They get off at the same stop, Dan pursuing behind Tom as they’re packed along the corridors. Tom spends too long pondering whether he should check behind him or just proceed until ultimately, they’re spat out into the crisp air. Tom hesitates at the top of the stairs, not certain where to go now but he hasn’t conversed with Dan in a few minutes so he doesn’t feel like he can ask.

“This way,” Dan leads, striding out in front and guiding Tom apart from the crowd. Tom runs to catch up alongside him as he huffs out clouded breaths. He’s prepared more this time, mainly by wearing a thicker coat _with_ his gloves in the pockets. Dan effortlessly lights a cigarette promptly as they turn the corner which makes things infinitely less awkward now his mouth is occupied. Tom is ordinarily a talker, nobody can ever get him to shut up, but he’s so considerably out of his comfort zone that this forces his lips sealed.

“This isn’t my place to say shit but Will was talking about you as we were packing away that night. He was nervous to go over and speak to you and I haven't ever seen him nervous in that way so whatever happened, give him another chance.” Dan sounds sincere, although Tom believed the same about Will so maybe he’s not the best judge of that. Tom can see he’s keeping something back by the hesitancy in his words. The way he lingers on each sentence like he’s calculating how much he can divulge.

Tom recognises they’re getting close to the venue so he knows if he wants to ask more he’s going to have to be responsive. He thinks about questioning if Will has asked after him, if he’s searched for him in the crowd, if he’s even said his name since they met. But all he ends up producing are choked off noises until they approach the entrance and Dan is stubbing his cigarette out on the floor with his boot. 

He isn’t sure whether to accompany Dan in as he’s heading through the side door but Dan turns to check he’s there so he hesitantly steps forward, hunching in to make himself smaller. Dan guides them around a gloomy corridor, seemingly nowhere in this building has adequate lighting. That musty smell and sticky floor propel him straight back into the excitement of the first night and his spirits pick up, albeit briefly.

“Just gotta pick up my guitar, first door on the left down there is the bar, I’ll see you in there in a sec,” Dan tells him before squeezing through piled abandoned amps and wires and out of Tom’s view. He stands a bit bewildered, unsure if roaming around by himself is too weird. He doesn’t even have Dan’s backup anymore. He inches down the corridor, chewing his nails and every so often turning back in the hopes that Dan is behind him. He arrives at the door and immediately his hearing tunes in. He recognises that laugh anywhere.

 _Will_.

It feels strange to hear it again, but not as scary as he anticipates. Tom determines that he’s braver than cowering in a dingy corridor, Will is merely a man he slept with. Yes, it was his first time but that isn’t a big deal. He shuts his eyes and reminds himself that he’s being absurd over a man he met once as he rams the door open on its rusty hinges. Fortunately, nobody seems to notice him slip in. There are gatherings of people in clusters, most of which he doesn’t recognise. He lingers close to the wall and out of the way until he sees him. It’s dark but he’d recognise that nose and those dimples anywhere. He feels weird looking at Will when he doesn’t yet know Tom’s there, however, the courage he thought he had a few seconds ago? Yeah, that’s gone.

Tom watches as Will perches at the bar, pint in his hand and grin on his face. It isn’t exactly like Tom had demanded Will to be as sorrowful as he had been over the past few days, but having confirmation that life moved back to normal for him hurt. Like Tom was just a blip he hadn’t even thought about again. It made him even more determined to see Will’s reaction to him appearing, maybe it will provide him with the answers he was left without before. Tom is formulating exactly what to say and how he’s going to make his extraordinary entrance when he notices Will’s hand lift up and lightly caress the barman’s face. Tom assumes that maybe it’s a gesture or a hint to whisper but no, those are definitely lips meeting. In fact, that’s more than just lips meeting, that’s tongues too.

Oh.

Tom’s primary instinct is to breathily laugh in disbelief. The incessant staring of the guy on that first night Tom had asked for a pint should have been a giveaway. All this time Tom truly had only been a blip, Will had presumably called it a mistake and hurried to get Tom out of the house before his boyfriend came back. Explains why he never got his number either.

Tom refuses to acknowledge the tears pricking at his eyes as he observes what he can make out of their hands joining over the bar. He can’t detect Will’s face now but he can see the barman. The grin illuminating his expression is exactly like the couple Tom had witnessed earlier on the tube, one that signified they were most comfortable next to each other. Tom presumed it couldn’t get any worse until he felt a person shift next to him and a grasp on his shoulder.

“You alright there mate?” he recognises Dan’s voice. He can’t do this right now.  
“I-I’m not feeling great, I’m gonna go,” Tom rushes with one last lingering stare at the happy couple. He bumbles out the door before Dan can register what’s happening and he practically sprints out of the venue. Will is a happy man, a happy _taken_ man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to apologise for the cliffhanger left on this chapter but better days are coming, I swear! The fluff shall always prevail. Apparently I seem to have decided monday evenings are my upload times so I will try to stick to it if I can. See you next week, my tumblr is mclennondreams if you want a chat!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for all the feels!

Tom refuses to allow himself to be upset about a one night stand. And that’s how he ends up charging down Camden high street and muttering ‘what are you looking at’ to anyone who endeavours to ask if he’s okay. To onlookers, he may appear red-faced and teary-eyed but nothing is wrong. He’s very much fine. He’s not upset, he’s not hurt and he’s definitely not heartbroken.

He would continue to convince himself of that if he didn’t collide shoulder first with his own brother on his way to the tube. He’s fine in his little world and suddenly a suit-clad arm comes barging his way, forcing him to stumble back and knocking his hood down, exposing the true reality of his sorrowful expression. He isn’t expecting it to be Joe but of course, that’s what happens, everything Tom doesn’t want to happen is currently on a personal vendetta against him.

“Oh Tom, I was hoping you’d be ‘ere. I was just coming to see you, I- what’s wrong?” Joe questions upon detecting the tears trickling down his brothers face. Tom rubs them away with his gloves and almost lies about what happened except Joe is giving him those Serious Big Brother eyes and he knows he can’t. He stammers around the topic for a moment, fresh streams of tears bubbling to the surface every time he creates a new way to phrase it. Eventually, he concludes he needs to find a route around the word ‘cheating’ before his quivering lip gives him away.  
“It’s just... he’s datin’ someone else a-and I thought maybe me and him had somethin’ but... clearly not,” Tom confesses, waiting for the teasing taunts or the lecture on how he helped someone cheat. Joe is always a ‘head not heart’ person, thinking critically rather than emotionally. Perhaps that’s something Tom should look into adopting from him actually. But neither of the options he anticipates come, instead, he feels stable arms enclosing around him.  
“I’m really sorry Tom,” Joe mutters, his voice sincere.

Tom waits for a few beats, it’s bound to break into something familiar soon. Nope, Joe simply holds on and rubs his back. It’s a relief to not have to joke about it or defend himself. Tom hugs him back, sighing and allowing his anger to slip. No matter how many people get irritated and grumble at them to get out of the way, they stay there and Tom is thankful he has his brother to lean on or he feels like he might collapse.

“Now is this guy still in there? Because I swear to god I’m gonna kick his cheatin’ arse so hard my foot will split him clean fuckin’ open,” Joe insists as he leans away but Tom grasps onto his front to make sure he stays put. Usually, he’ll be all up for watching a protective family fight but the idea of Will knowing he has to get his big brother to stand up for him without talking it out like an adult is embarrassing.

“I just want to go home, Joe,” Tom murmurs, lips pressing together in a pleading smile. He can perceive that Joe has an internal conflict going on, craving so badly to go and tear the guy apart limb from limb but Tom is giving him the best watery ‘I’m upset look after me’ eyes. He knows where he got that trick from for sure. Joe peers back at the venue, the artificial lights reflecting in his eyes and sighs.  
“Come on then,” Joe submits, slinging his arm over Tom’s shoulder and leading them away.

Tom leans his head on Joe all the way home and delights when Joe doesn’t moan about his ‘slimy hair’. Instead, he tells Tom stories about his day and his work, adding in the voices that he knows Tom would ordinarily do if it were his. Although Tom’s always been the best storyteller of the family, Joe seems to have picked up well for someone who apparently wasn’t listening.

Gradually, the smooth rocking motion and the lack of people surrounding him to put him on edge starts to soothe him. Joe concludes a story and Tom finds his laugh is genuine, the weight of what he saw is still lingering but Joe is chipping it away block by block. The continuous mechanical tube noise is sufficient static to stop his brain overthinking in the pauses. Tom can feel Joe shifting and he begins to get suspicious at the lack of conversation. That is until Joe elects to speak up.

“I was cheated on once, you know,” Joe states out of the blue, Tom’s head whips up and his eyes widen.  
“Really?” he responds. He can tell this is one of those rare subjects that Joe isn’t willing to discuss much by the way his eyes train downwards and his body curls in.  
“Yeah, you were still livin’ with mum at the time. We had a flat together and I thought we were, um, meant to be,” Joe scoffs at the memory and Tom feels his heart ache.  
“What did he do?” Tom shyly pushes as he can detect Joe is stuck in his thoughts. Tom stretches out and places a hand on his arm.  
“Must be somethin’ about that place and that band. That was where I found him with the other guy, the same bar. I wanted to come tonight to see if anythin’ had changed since then, thought if you were there maybe it would make it easier, dunno,” Joe admits with a shrug whilst shaking his head. Tom feels like he’s now seen a whole new side to Joe that he doesn’t even know exists. He tends to forget that Joe had a life before Tom can even remember.

“Anyway, that’s where this necklace came from, this was my engagement ring.” Joe draws out the necklace tucked under the collar of his shirt and Tom swears he could faint. He remembers tugging on it as a teenager and he’s unquestionably never seen Joe without it. He always figured it was a family item, he never guessed that Joe was ever a fiance?!  
“Woah, wait, what?! You were engaged?” Tom exclaims, his eyebrows raising as he twists the ring around and studies it. It’s an elegant silver band, covered in all kinds of doodles and sketches that had been lasered onto the metal. A faint smile settles onto Joe’s face instead of the lingering heartbreak there was before.

“Yup, I was about your age actually,” Joe grimaces as if that is a scary thing for him to realise, “and you were still a kid then. We used to take you to the park and you would..”  
“...Beg to pick the cherries from the blossom trees, yeah I remember that. There was another kid too right?” Blake finishes, amazed that he can truly piece together memories of Joe and his ex.  
“I dunno, I think so. But there were always kids around you, you were so... social. You used to sit ‘em down and tell them your stories you’d made up,” Joe laughs and Tom breathily laughs in amazement, remembering how he used to declare ‘story time’ after school in the park. He’d spend so long inventing them in the day then becoming so eager to perform them that afternoon.

“Ooh, hold on I got somethin’ to show you.” Joe grabs his phone and scrolls through his gallery, he browses the screen for a while, thousands of images flicking past until he opens up one in particular. It’s got appalling quality and wasn’t taken on Joe’s current phone but Tom gasps when the camera eventually focusses and he discerns himself and Joe. He’s tiny and chubby, must only be 2 or 3 years old and Joe must have been approximately 10 at that point.

He’s in Joe’s old room at their house, the walls covered in Thomas The Tank Engine posters. Joe is recording a mirror, his phone aiming directly at their reflection. His other hand is at the side of Tom, his miniature fist wrapped around Joe’s pointer finger to keep himself upright.  
“Joe look! I walking!” Tom in the video giggles, jumping up and down while his hand reaches out for the mirror.  
“Yeah buddy, you are,” Joe chuckles back, his eyes flicking between Tom’s reflection and the phone screen. Tom continues jumping up as down, dribbling on the fingers of his right hand and holding Joe’s with his left.  
“You want to show everyone your clapping?” Joe prompts with a fond smile and Tom watches his baby self enthusiastically clap whilst bouncing before stumbling and almost landing butt-first on the floor. The camera jostles as Joe helps him back to his feet and when the video starts back up again his eyes are red and Joe’s thighs are tight around his feet so he can’t slip. Joe always told him he was a very dramatic baby.

“Show everyone how you clap with Joe,” Joe says and Tom is back to laughing at the sound of his brother’s voice, his red chubby cheeks lighting up as he hi-fives Joe’s free hand repeatedly. Each slap gets harder until Tom is using both his hands to essentially assault Joe’s.  
“Okay, okay Tommy,” Joe says, scooping him up with an arm around his stomach. Tom gives up on the slapping and plops down in his lap as Joe scoots along the floor to be even closer to the mirror, crossing his legs so his knees touch it.

“Show everyone what we got on our walk today,” Joe prompts, dragging something over from the side but the quality of the camera is so poor that Tom can’t even recognise what it is. Baby Tom makes a confused pouty face as he twists his body around to look at his older brother. Joe whispers something but his finger is over the mic. There’s some rustling and then a very excited squeal.

“Cherwhies!” Tom yells, bobbing up and down as Joe hands him the first one. He shoves it up to the camera in the mirror and Joe laughs.  
“Be careful, what’s that one, Tommy?” Joe asks and Tom ponders on the question for a while before seemingly having a burst of inspiration.  
“Cherwy?” Tom hesitantly says back, studying the object in his hands.  
“It’s a Lambert cherry,” Joe informs him and Tom attempts to mimic what Joe said.  
“Wam’ert cherwy,” Tom mutters quietly as Joe hands him another one.  
“This one is a Montmorency, try and say that Tommy,” Joe smirks as he clearly knows this isn’t going to work.  
“’Ont’or’cy,” Tom says slowly and Joe hides his laugh pretty terribly for a 10-year old but Tom doesn’t seem to mind, he just studies the two cherries in his hands now.

Joe films them quietly for a bit, swapping the two cherries between Tom’s hands and trying to get him to repeat the names before Tom gets bored and throws them across the floor.   
“Alright, I guess that’s enough cherries for now. Do you want to say anything else to my new camera?” Joe says, turning his head to look at Tom instead of his reflection.  
“Uhhh, wuv Joe-y,” Tom muffles around his fingers with wide eyes and a beaming smile erupts onto Joe’s face.  
“Aw wuv you too Tommy,” Joe responds in a mutter, pulling Tom’s head in and pressing a kiss to his hair.  
“I eat choc’wut now, buh-byes,” Tom declares as he waves at the camera in the reflection and wriggles as an attempt to get out of Joe’s grip.  
“Alright, bye-byes Tommy,” Joe laughs as he films Tom staggering out of the room. It’s very sweet until he falls again and the final seconds of the footage are Tom’s wailing cries as Joe rushes to pick him back up.

Joe locks the screen after the video stops and Tom looks up at him, his eyes watery.  
“You used to look after me?” Tom asks as Joe puts his phone away.  
“All the time, mum was busy so I used to teach you things. I taught you how to walk, how to jump, I taught you how to go up and down the stairs but then you slipped so I had to stop you,” Joe beams at the memory, his eyes a little watery which is startling as Tom doesn’t recall ever seeing his brother cry when he isn’t drunk or experiencing a major life event.

“I never knew that,” Tom whispers, wondering how many life lessons Joe taught him that he never would have had without him.  
“You know, mum tells everyone your first word was teddy but it was actually light. I played that game where every time we came into a room I’d say _light_ and then one day you said it too. I felt so bad mum wasn’t there, I never told her about it,” Joe shakes his head and Tom gazes in wonder, he never knew any of this even happened.

He pulls Joe in for a tight hug, at first Joe’s startled but then he relaxes.  
“I love you, Joey,” Tom’s voice cracks as he says it.  
“Love you too Tommy,” Joe responds, his voice quiet so nobody can hear the emotion running through it. Tom tucks his head into Joe’s shoulder, the familiar soap and cologne scent reminding him of home. He rubs Joe’s back before pulling away.  
“I eat choc’wut now,” Tom mimics his baby self and Joe laughs, pulling him in and pressing a kiss on his head. They sit for a while, recounting memories of Tom’s childhood before Joe elbows him slyly and whisks them away from memories.

“So, come on, enough about my life I wanna hear about this cheatin’ arsehole now you’re not blubbering on my shoulder,” Joe teases and Tom feels like a chain just clunked it’s way around his lungs again and ripped the breath out of them.  
“Eurgh, it’s no big deal, don’t wanna think about him anymore. It was just... stupid,” Tom shakes his head, Will seems a lot more insignificant after the chat they’ve just had. But the image of Will kissing someone else looks like it will be sticking there for a while at least.

“Alright, well it’s over with now. Neither of us ever have to go back to that hellhole and we can do some brotherly bonding over our same shitty taste in men,” Joe sarcastically comments and Tom rolls his eyes fondly as they get off the tube. Joe begins acting up to bring a smile back to his face, yelling on the escalators and deliberately pushing Tom in people’s way with a smirk. To onlookers they probably appear drunk, giggling and screaming ‘all men are shit’ as they piggyback ride down their road. But Tom had never really bonded with Joe before, they both lived together but it was purely for convenience. Now though, as he looks over at Joe singing a rendition of an Elton John song, he realises that maybe he should have spent more time with Joe as they got older given how much he did for him. They’re very different people with apparently not that different love lives.

When they stumble through the door, Joe reaches out for the switch but Tom grabs his wrist. Before he can question it, Tom flicks it on and says ‘light’ in the high-pitched, kid-friendly voice they used to do it in. Joe shakes his head and pulls him in for a hug while telling Tom that he can put his favourite show on and he’ll make dinner. Tom realises Joe must be able to tell how upset he had been before if he’s voluntarily letting him put Brooklyn 99 on. Even though the whole night had been a definite disaster, it had also given him his brother back. He was just like how they used to be when he was a kid before adulthood and responsibilities kicked in. So maybe it wasn’t all that bad.

“Alright, waffles or...,” there’s some rusting and muttered swearing, “okay waffles is all we’ve got so I guess we’re having waffles,” Joe shouts from the kitchen and Tom snorts at how lame he is. He decides to remind Joe of another old memory from his youth, albeit not a fond one on Joe’s part.  
“But I want chips,” Tom whines back in a childish voice, stifling a laugh and Joe reappears by the door, smirking.  
“Well whiney little snotbags don’t always get what they want, do they? It’s potato, it’s the same thing. There you go, deal with it,” Joe teases with his old response but it doesn’t quite have the same annoyance behind it as it used to. It’s at that point that Tom decides Will doesn’t deserve his effort, his stories, his jokes and his smile. But Joe does.

Tom is awoken later by a notification ping and the faint muffle of TV sound. Typically he wouldn’t even bother to unlock his phone, he’d merely roll over and go back to sleep. But when he attempts to, he notices that not only is Joe asleep on him, he’s also dribbling on Tom’s shoulder. So he unlocks it and takes a picture to send to their mum, stifling a giggle as not to wake him. That is until his face drops when he notices the notification that had awoken him is an email.

From willschoband@gmail.com.

Tom involuntarily jolts up in shock, his mouth dry as Joe falls from his shoulder and startles awake, his hair sticking up everywhere.  
“Ah, s’ goin’on?” Joe mumbles in panic as his head whips up and he rubs his eyes.  
“Joe, Joe, he emailed me. How did he get my email? I didn’t give him any of my details?” Tom rushes, hitting his brother's shoulder repeatedly to get him as alert as Tom now is. Joe’s eyes are barely open and he’s not quite aware of the world yet.

“What’re you talkin’ ‘bout?” Joe drawls as he yawns, stretching and rubbing his face. Tom shoves his phone at Joe, making him wince at the assault on his eyes.  
“The email has his name on it, that’s gotta be him,” Tom repeats, pointing at the notification as if Joe can even see it. The message has no subject or hint of what it’s about so there’s no indicator of what’s inside.  
“Open it then, le’see what the cheatin’ bastard has to say,” Joe responds, sitting upright now and rolling his head to soothe his aching neck. Tom speaks aloud as he reads.

Tom  
I hope this is the right email, it’s for Tom Blake. I got this from Dan off the ticket orders list so I’m not sure if it’s right.  
Sorry I haven’t been in touch, things have been pretty busy. But Dan said you were coming to the gig tonight and then you felt ill. Just wanted to check if you’re okay.  
Let me know,  
Will  
Sorry for the contact info below, this is my work email

Tom doesn’t entirely know what to make of it. It isn’t exactly the romantic declaration of love he hopes for but it isn’t cold either. Dan told him about their encounter which was expected but for Will to care enough to hunt his email out and ensure he’s okay... that is not. Then again, ‘things have been pretty busy’ is a pathetic attempt at an excuse.

“Tell him that next time he should email you about his boyfriend before you hook up, maybe that would be a good use of an email,” Joe grumbles, rolling his eyes at the screen, He is still not exactly sure of what day it is let alone how to solve his brother’s relationship issues. Tom chews on his lip, debating how he can tell Will he knows without appearing overly attached or too relaxed about it. As Joe gets up and begins to plod sleepily throughout their apartment while getting ready for work, Tom types and deletes repeatedly, his thumbs frantically clicking away before he squints and gets rid of most of it. Joe is huffing every time he strolls past Tom while he makes his tea and breakfast before he snaps.  
“If you type and delete anymore I swear to god, I’ll delete you. Give it here and let me read,” Joe sighs, shoving his bowl on the side of the TV stand.

Will,  
This is the right email and I hope things are going well. I’m doing better now, thanks for asking.  
Tom  
Sorry for the lack of contact info, this is my personal email and I know you have a boyfriend anyway.

“Ouch, I mean it’s lame as far as cheatin’ goes but,” Joe shrugs and Tom is debating over the last line now he’s heard it aloud. He considers deleting it again until he hears a litany of typing clicks and a swooping noise from his phone. His head whips up and Joe’s smirking, tea in hand and holding Tom’s phone out with the other.  
“Sent it,” Joe adds as if that needs clarification before he picks his bowl up and goes to his bedroom.  
“You fucker!” Blake yells as he frantically opens his sent box and checks it. It’s all progressing well until the closing line.

Sorry for the lack of contact info, this is my personal email and I know you have a boyfriend anyway, _you cheating arsehole scumbag._

Tom wants to die. Literally, if god could pick his time to whisk Tom away to a life of paradise, it would be this exact moment. Is it entirely deserved? Yes. Did Tom want to be the one to tell him? No. He prays Joe doesn’t walk back in any time soon because all the brotherly affection might still be lingering in his heart but his head wants to whack him. He makes a plan to discard his phone and forget about it until he’s calmer but the response he gets is nearly instant. Which makes some sort of hopeful optimist streak in him melt that clearly, Will is waiting for the replies.

Tom,  
Okay... what. I definitely do NOT have a boyfriend and I really don’t appreciate being called a cheating scumbag. My email was clearly not welcome, message received loud and fucking clear.  
Will  
Contact info is still here if you fancy hurling more unnecessary abuse at me

...Great. So now not only was Tom’s first time with a cheater but also a liar. That riles him up and his fingers are going before he can even register what he’s typing. All the anger at his brother is forgotten as he drafts and deletes varying levels of angry messages. Joe plops down beside him, now dressed for work, and his eyebrows raise upon looking at the screen.  
“Let ‘im have it, Tommy, wow,” Joe jokes as he ruffles Tom’s hair. He watches as the message is forming before realising this might take a while and he has to leave.

“Right, I’m off to work, see you in a bit,” Joe shouts from the door and waits for a response, it takes a few moments but eventually Tom looks up from his phone.  
“Alright, see ya. Oh and Joe?” Tom adds as his brother is opening the door.  
“Yeah?” Joe says, fiddling with his jacket collar.  
“Wuv you Joey,” Tom pouts, fluttering his eyelashes. Joe shakes his head.  
“Fuck off,” Joe laughs as he grabs his keys and leaves.

“Uh, hello? JOEY, WHERE’S MY RESPONSE?” Tom jokingly yells, knowing full well their walls are thin enough for Joe to have heard it. He hears the clicking of the lock before his brother’s unamused face pops back into the room.  
“What? I have to get to work!” Joe exclaims, checking his watch.  
“Come on, you gotta say it back,” Tom teases and Joe sighs, debating if it’s worse to lose his pride or his punctuality.  
“Fine,” Joe sarcastically retorts, “wuv you Tommy,” Joe mutters as quietly as he can before practically sprinting down the corridor. It’s the laugh Tom needs before he rips Will apart.

Will,  
Well I don’t appreciate being taken for an idiot but we can’t always get what we want, can we? Surprisingly your email full of lies wasn’t welcome, just like the image of you sticking your tongue down another guys throat wasn’t either. By the way, tell your barman boyfriend he can’t pour beer for shit.  
Tom  
Also, I didn’t call you a cheating scumbag, it was cheating _arsehole_ scumbag.

He sends it without even thinking, so clouded in anger at being blatantly lied to that his no-filter mouth is reappearing. How dare he get sarcastic when he’s so clearly in the wrong. It takes a few minutes to get a reply this time which is satisfying, Tom knows that means the message must have hit a nerve.

Tom  
I think I see what’s happened. Meet me at the bar tonight and I’ll explain  
Will

It’s certainly not the response he’s been expecting. But now Will’s been caught out suddenly the insults stop? Does he really think it’s that easy to just explain away? Why would he invite the person he cheated with to his boyfriend’s work? The message raises way more questions than it answers and Tom finds himself slightly baffled at how to reply. He decides to let his anger continue as that seems to be putting Will in his place.

Will,  
I’ll pass on that offer thanks. I saw enough last time, don’t need a refresher.  
Tom

He knows he’s acting like a child and doubt starts to creep in on what is actually going on. He turns to ask Joe before realising Joe’s at work now, damn it. The replies are getting faster.

Tom  
Trust me, it’s not as bad as it looks. I don’t have a boyfriend.  
Will

Tom gets more frustrated than angry this time, he saw them with his own eyes. Will must think he’s an idiot to believe otherwise. Maybe this is some sort of weird kinky thing between Will and his boyfriend? No, Will thinks Tom’s hair pulling is kinky so that ideas out.

Will  
Know when to stop lying. Leave me alone.  
Tom

The replies get less angry and more pleading. The longer this is dragging out, the worse it makes him feel. 

Tom  
Swear on my heart I’m not lying. Please, just come and talk this out before the gig tonight. I’ll pay your bar tab?  
Will

Tom snorts, as if Will has to pay a bar tab. He’s the lead singer of the band and his boyfriend is the barman. Will really does think he’s a moron. But then again, the curiosity and sadism in Tom is half tempted to take up his offer. If he gets free drinks that means he can get absolutely wasted, find out what the weird emails are about and have the added bonus of not remembering it in the morning.

Will  
I don’t need you to get your boyfriend to give me free drinks, I can pay for myself. I’ll come so I can watch you explain your way out of this one.  
Tom

Tom thinks he’s made a valid excuse as to why he’s coming. In reality, it’s just ‘I want to believe there’s still a slither of hope for us somewhere because you’re really cute’. The more he ponders on it though, the more Tom queries if he’s just made a massive mistake. If he couldn’t handle observing one kiss from far away, how will he handle witnessing them up close together? Kissing and cuddling and being all... in a relationship. He stares up from his phone, the TV now playing some obsolete shopping channel and a picture of his family lying crooked to the side of it. He knows he has to try because as much as he has a new-found appreciation for his brother, he’s still so shockingly lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying out a new writing style so hopefully it flows a bit better, let me know if you noticed and if you liked/hated it! I've had some really lovely people message me regarding this fic and I hope you found this chapter good. For anyone who wants a hint at the contents of the next chapter (some of you already know but if you do keep it quiet!), look at the title of the fic and start there. Have a good week and stay safe everyone!
> 
> Tumblr- mclennondreams


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I skipped a week! I wasn't feeling great and I wasn't too confident in my writing this chapter. I apologise if it's not the best! I tried my hardest to get it to feel right but it doesn't seem to.

Tom spends the day trying on outfits repeatedly, typing out a cancellation message only to save it in his drafts and ultimately huffing on the bed. With nobody to distract him, he’s stuck in his head and each scenario he pictures becomes more dramatic. He knows the moment he sees Will his heart will ache, knowing he can never see the man writhing in pleasure underneath him again is almost physically painful. He fists the duvet in frustration at how pathetic he sounds, banging it down before deciding he’s going to give Will a piece of his mind as he steps out of the apartment in the classic, all-black outfit he’d spent hours debating over.

The tube ride is almost familiar at this point and he doesn’t run into any friends of Will’s which is always a bonus. His legs won’t stop bouncing though and it’s making the guy next to him sneak him looks every few seconds. Tom almost loses his cool before realising that if he does, he has to attempt to get it back. That’s like trying to put spilt liquid back into the glass, it’s not going to happen. So Tom minds his own business and decides that maybe a cigarette is due. He pulls one out, thankful it’s an old coat so he still has some lingering in his pocket. He’s trying so hard to quit and doing well but some things require the aid only chemicals can provide. Twirling the stick in his fingers, he tries to let the idea of the cigarette soothe him enough to not have to light it when he gets outside. He sighs, shoving it back into his pocket and deciding to bounce his leg again.

The tube ride is way too long with way too little distraction. To try and stop the elaborate constructions of tonight’s events that he’s constantly thinking up, he brings his mind back to Joe and their trip on this exact tube line last night. Some childhood memories are slowly coming back to him, like when he fell off his bike and Joe spent ages convincing him that the stone he tripped on was gone for good. Tom had seen one drop of blood on his knee from the scrape and cried for hours, Joe had been the only one there so he had crouched down and covered it in a piece of crumpled tissue. He doesn’t want to think too much about his childhood because he feels like he still acts like that little toddler sometimes. He can’t dwell on it in case any more of it seeps into his current personality. But right now, it’s a distraction and a comforting thought so he inwardly laughs at his memories of Joe singing maths songs to him so he could complete his homework.

It works until Tom gets off the tube and remembers why he’s there. Realistically he knows he doesn’t have to do this and he has the moral high ground, but something about it feels off. He gives himself a stern talk as he walks, his legs feel heavy and dragging them is almost a chore. He places his hand in his pocket for warmth but his fingers land on the cigarettes buried in there. Tom pulls one out like he did on the tube except for this time he lights it up. He can almost hear Joe in his ear giving him cigarette death statistics but he’s about to confront his cheating one night stand at the bar of said one night stands boyfriend so he feels he deserves one tiny smoke.

The first drag is always bittersweet, he can feel the tension easing from his pent up shoulders but he splutters a little, not used to it after so long abstaining. By the second drag, he feels guilty for disappointing Joe. On the third, his mind finally returns to Will. He repeats ‘you got this’ and ‘don’t let him walk all over you’ as he strolls down the street, one hand in his pocket.

The night-time always feels calming to him, the quiet streets and cooling air soothing. Coming from a country house means he appreciates the constant city noise more than most others do. He rounds the corner and immediately spots the clusters of people outside the bar, their voices echoing the otherwise empty street and clumps of smoke oozing from their lips. He strides forward and takes a big breath, closing his eyes and stubbing his cigarette out as he makes his way inside. He shuffles past people, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible and goes in through the main door. It feels wrong to use the side door without someone he knows accompanying him.

This is it. His stomach is doing flops as he steps in warily and he hears the familiar crackle of his shoes sticking to the floor. The room must have been recently cleaned somewhere though as the air is tainted with chemicals rather than the usual fake smoke and sweat stain. Immediately his eyes flicker to the bar, unable to help himself despite what he knows he’ll witness.

Every bit of hope is strained ruthlessly from him when he sees that this time Will is positioned behind the bar. It’s too dark to tell exactly what they’re doing but Tom’s brain is doing a very helpful job of trying to fill the gaps with his worst nightmares. His eyes sting with tears but he won’t let that happen this time. He has to face up to this, he can get his answers, get outrageously drunk and leave just in time for some more cheer up brotherly bonding time. He squints in the hopes that he didn’t just see Will’s arms wrap around the barman’s middle and his head rest delicately on the other man’s shoulder. That was Tom’s morning after move! Then it clicks, that must have been why Will relaxed into it at first, did he think Tom was...

He feels like he could throw up.

He dismisses it even though he feels a sting of jealously and it’s the first brief moment of genuine reconsideration he’s had. He stays in the shadow by the door until he can gather himself but he can’t seem to take his eyes off them. They look so blissful, it’s too dark to see their eyes but their smiles are pretty blinding. He watches them, deciding if this is really what he wants until he sees a figure walking past behind them and coming out of the band exit door. At first, it seems like nothing and he goes back to observing Will, that is until the figure that had walked past is suddenly approaching him. Tom straightens up, ready to explain why he’s here when the persons face comes into the light a few feet from him.

“Will?!” Tom says, his face dropping and his eyes flicking back to the bar where the two guys are still cuddling. It’s a good job he didn’t order a drink because it would have clattered to the floor immediately.  
“Hi Tom,” Will mutters, looking back towards the bar and then at Tom. His hands are shoved in his pockets but under the light, he still looks so broad, Tom wonders how he never appreciated those shoulders and that angled jawline. Will lifts one hand up and runs it through his quiff again, he always seems to be doing that but it shows off his muscles so Tom isn’t complaining. Now is not the time for this but he can’t help but file it away for later. He’s only human.

“But you’re... there,” Tom points and he realises how ridiculous he sounds but how is this even possible.  
“Follow me,” Will says in a flat tone as Tom accompanies him to the bar. As he gets closer, things still make no sense to him as ideas race through his mind at a ground-breaking speed. He stands stiff, unable to look away from Will because he knows that somehow, he’s in the wrong here. He feels like a child being told off at school, everyone looming over him and the eyes of the whole room on him. Even though it’s clear his brain is exaggerating, Tom’s heart is racing.  
“Tom, meet my _brother_ , Ned,” Will says with a sigh and an eyebrow raise.  
Oh god, he fucked up. He fucked up _badly._

Before he can even process the ways in which he’s completely thrown any remains of their companionship out into the fiery wreck of reality, the other Will is talking.  
“Hey, oh you’re Tom. You’re the arsehole that made my little brother cry?” Ned says in what appears to be an Australian accent. Tom finally manages to make eye contact and he has never wanted the world to swallow him up more. In his defence, Ned looks very much like Will except he can now see his hair is darker, he’s taller and Tom’s pretty sure he might be wearing makeup. If Tom thought Will was intimidating before, Ned is downright terrifying.

“Uh, yeah. I-I’m really sorry. I messed up, I thought you were your brother,” Tom apologises and chooses to not register that he made Will cry at the current time so as not to hate himself forever. Ned’s eyes are burning straight through him and Tom’s lungs feel like they could pop.  
“Well, I’ll tell you that if you-“ he’s cut off by Will but despite Will’s insistence he stop, he continues, “if you hurt him, I will find you, kill you, cut off your ear and keep it as a souvenir. You got that?” Ned finishes and Tom would laugh ordinarily, but he’s not entirely sure that Ned’s joking. Tom nods hesitantly and his eyes flicker to where Will is squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his fist. He realises the only way to get out of this is to comply.

“Got it, I-I won’t hurt him again, swear down,” Tom replies, almost willing Ned to jump over the counter and kill him just to get this moment over with. Will must sense the tension and Tom’s pure, unadulterated fear as he guides Tom away hurriedly. Either that or he’s used to his brother threatening lives, he’s not sure which is scarier.

“So, do you believe me that I’m not a cheating scumbag now?” Will asks once they’re on the other side of the room and this is the point Tom knows he needs to start some serious grovelling. He opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by Will, clearly with a smart comment to make judging by the self-confident way he adjusts his posture.  
“Oh sorry, I meant cheating arsehole scumbag... continue,” he smirks as he folds his arms and Tom swears his heart just ripped in two. The first guy he’s seriously liked in... well, pretty much ever and this is what happens. This is why he never leaves the damn house.

“I’m sorry, I ain’t gonna make excuses ‘cause you can see I fucked up. I shouldn’t have called you a cheater,” Tom apologises, wishing he’d gotten drunk before he left the house instead of waiting until he got here. Now his stomach’s in knots and Will is looking at him with a blank expression which isn’t making it much easier to read him. Will looks him up and down and if it wasn’t such a tense moment, Tom would believe that lust is lingering in Will’s blown pupils. As he approaches Tom’s face again, his expression morphs from cocky to a more gentle pitying smile.

“It’s alright, people mistake us a lot. Just wasn’t expecting all of... that on the email,” Will’s eyebrows raise for a split second and silence falls on them both. They awkwardly avert their gazes, looking nearly everywhere but each other as Tom frantically flies through the list of possible things he could say. Just as he is onto a decent lead, Will cuts in.  
“I’m gonna go get ready so, maybe I’ll see you around at some point,” Will mutters and Tom isn’t great at reading signals but this seems like a pretty clear one to leave. He looks into Will’s eyes, treasuring the second before nodding.

“Alright, uh, yeah. Maybe,” Tom agrees, stepping back but not yet brave enough to turn for the door. He watches as Will walks backstage without even a seconds glance or moment to linger. Tom clung on too long and now not only is the metaphorical rope ending, the burn on his hands' cuts deep. At this point, he needs to just let go. He is letting go when he is tugged back by a hand on his shoulder. For fucks sake, does anyone know when to just leave him alone?

“Hey, wait!” Tom sighs when he recognises that slow drawl, damn it, Dan, sense the mood.  
“I could really do without this right now man,” Tom practically begs him to just let him leave. Dan is giving him an equally begging look back. The type of expression that says ‘two can play at this game’.  
“I know he doesn’t show it but Will really likes you. Don’t let him or Ned put you off. Will is gonna use every excuse he can to push you away, don’t let him,” Dan insists and Tom would listen if he hadn’t heard it all from Dan before.

“If Will wants me so bad then why doesn’t he tell me?” Tom retaliates whilst huffing his arms to his side, wanting all this to be over with now. He hasn’t played Call Of Duty in weeks and right now firing guns seems like a therapeutic way to let his emotions out safely.  
“He tried with the email but then you called him a cheater!” Dan yells in defence, the argument growing louder despite Tom trying to keep the volume down. His brain is already telling him that everyone is staring, he doesn’t need it to be confirmed.

“He could tell it was a mistake when I mentioned the bar guy, why didn’t he just tell me it was his brother and we could ‘ave sorted it out? Instead, he dragged me out here just to make everyone laugh at me,” Tom bites back, a tear dribbling down his face at how horrible he feels. A soup of guilt, embarrassment and anger melting together and bubbling up.  
“He dragged you out here because he _wants_ you here. He won’t admit it but if he truly didn’t like you, he would have just emailed you and left it,” Dan states and that makes Tom pause for a moment. It makes sense as to why Will was so adamant for him to come to the bar in the emails, so much so he even offered to pay for his drink.

“If Will cares as much as you say he does, why are you always the one tellin’ me?” Tom asks quietly, giving up on being angry and just wanting answers so he can’t stew over the details for hours at home.  
“Because I’ve known Will for ages, he won’t tell you because he can’t. He has this weird, like guard almost, and he won’t let anyone past it. Well, he never had until you,” Dan explains and Tom feels a little glimmer of hope that he hadn’t been imagining that they had something that night. He notices Dan’s eyes flicking back and realises he probably should be getting on stage soon.

“Okay, I’ll stay, but if Will doesn’t talk to me then I’m not gonna chase him anymore,” Tom says and Dan’s face breaks into a grin, his eyes lighting up as he pats both of Tom’s shoulders.  
“That’s great! He will, I swear. I need to go but thanks,” Dan rushes, pulling him into a half-hearted hug before sprinting backstage. Tom steadily moves to the bar so he doesn’t get shoved by the girls coming in and tries his hardest not to look at Ned or the barman after he’s ordered his drink.

The set is going well, Tom and Will haven’t made eye contact and Will seems exactly the same as he was on his first night. The crowd are loving the songs and Tom is picking up more of the lyrics now he knows it was Will that wrote them. Everything is fine until Will chances a look at him and they lock eyes.  
“Hey, uh, I wanted to add a cover to the set if that’s okay with you all. It’s a message to someone a-and also to myself so the lyrics are important. This is Don’t You Go,” Will says and it’s the first time he’s spoken in between songs. Tom knows this is for him but he doesn’t know the song so as the guitars start up he strains to make sure he doesn’t miss a single word. He isn’t sure why Will picked this song for the first verse, the lyrics are very standard teen pop 'party all night' style, then the chorus kicks in and Will looks over at him.

[_Don't you go and carry on with your life,_](https://youtu.be/cDSiMwirXVE)  
_It was a one night stand 'til I woke up next to you,_  
_Don't you go, saying all your goodbyes,_  
 _I want a one night stand just one more time with you._  
_So give me one more night with you._

Tom doesn’t know how to feel. He should feel ecstatic, his crush is currently singing directly to him. It’s clear that Will thinks this is clearing everything between them by the meaningful glint in his eye, one that says ‘this is all I want to say to you, please hear me’. But the fact Will’s confirming it was only supposed to be a one night stand hurts a little more than Tom anticipates so he averts the gaze, showing Will his public affections aren’t working. He zones out of the song a bit, looking down at his watered-down drink that’s about as strong as his backbone and wondering if it’s really worth all this for someone who only wanted to fuck him.

It’s then that Tom decides he’s not nearly drunk enough for this kind of internal questioning so he orders a shot and lets it simmer his throat, dragging the pain from his heart away. Tom knows he won’t get wasted, he can’t speak to Will in that state, but there’s nothing to stop him drowning his pain. By his third drink, things are a little blurry and he turns to see where the bartender is to ask for water. He notices Ned isn’t there so in the awkward wait, he gets a bit brave.

“Where’s Ned?” Tom slurs, attempting to sound casual but failing badly, looking more like a child asking where their Christmas presents are hidden.  
“On stage, he does guitar tech for the band,” the guy answers with a throwaway glance, and Tom looks up towards where his head gestured. At first, he doesn’t spot him but in the dark corner of the stage, he can see Ned working on the amps. He actually looks like he’s shirtless, the sweat glimmering in the limited light. His drink is placed on the bar and then the barman is back to watching the gig. That’s when Tom realises that the barman wasn’t infatuated with the band, he was staring at Ned. Tom really needs to start thinking more and not just assuming his childish brain is always correct.

He is a little tipsier than last time when Will ends his romantic gesture and finishes the set with Ice Cream Sundae but he’s ready to get this over with and go home. He winces when the lights flicker on and he watches as the groups of girls wait around again. This time he’s quite thankful they’re there, it might give him an indicator of Will’s mood before he gets to Tom. He sits, swinging his legs on the seat and considers ordering another drink until he notices the barman has disappeared. In fact, anyone connected to the band has. Tom shrugs it off, figuring they need to clear up and get their equipment packed away. Tom idly waits and sips on the warm remnants of his beer.

40 minutes later and Tom is done, the fans are slowly filtering out with glum faces and Tom wants to make a dignified exit. He decides when the third-to-last person leaves, that’s his moment. Clearly, Dan was wrong and Will never wanted anything to do with him. He’s embarrassed he’d even hung on this long. He stands at the door, arms wrapped around himself as he shakily lights a cigarette and desperately sucks on it. That’s when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Will’s rumbling voice comes from behind him. Tom barely glances around, upset he’d just been left in there.  
“Hi,” Tom replies, not even giving Will the satisfaction of eye contact.  
“I was wondering if you, uh, wanted to come to mine? I paid your tab like I promised. We should talk things out,” Will says methodically but if Tom didn’t know better, judging on Will’s body language he would say that Will looks shy. Which is strange since Will never curled in on himself or couldn’t keep eye contact. Tom nods against everything that’s screaming at him not to.  
“Yeah okay,” Tom agrees before Will leads him to the awaiting uber. Tom flicks his cigarette to the floor and saunters around to the door. Bar one ‘sorry for the wait’ that Will utters to the driver, they ride in silence.

Tom didn’t realise how nice Will’s place is seeing as last time he was in it he was a little... preoccupied. The walls are all decorated neatly with artworks and poems on canvases, the rooms are mostly open plan, overall the place is very modern. Will toes his shoes off and Tom repeats after him, leading them both through to the living room. Once they sit down, the true awkwardness of the moment is presented. Tom tries to draw off what he thinks Joe would do in his situation so he leans into the silence and pretends he’s comfortable in it. Bouncing his eyes around the room and puffing air into his cheeks feel ridiculous but it seems to be doing the trick.

“Want a drink?” Will offers from where they’re sat side by side on the sofa. Bingo, Will was the first to talk, that’s a point to him.  
“No thanks, had enough tonight,” Tom replies with a chuckle that dies brutally with the silence, but he adjusts his posture to be more open. Will fiddles with his fingers a bit before glancing over, his eyes casting over a slither of Tom’s exposed skin where his shirt had ridden up.

“Sorry, I’m bad at this. Used to communicating in lyrics or when I’m pissed, not so much in person,” Will shakes his head and Tom just wishes he could wrap Will in his arms and hold him there all night. But that’s a cowards way out and won’t get anything accomplished. If Will’s not going to give him anything to work with then he’ll have to create it.

“Why were you so cold with me the morning after?” Tom asks, a brave move that he wasn’t expecting to make but he knew would tumble out eventually. Will’s head drops and Tom can see by his sigh and expression he’d been expecting this question.  
“Because I really like you,” Will whispers and Tom squints in confusion, unsure if he heard correctly. Will still can’t meet his eye so he’s left to try and decode the sentence himself.  
“But if you like me, then why would you do that?” Tom asks, checking Will’s face for any sign of anger. He’s doing it again, his over-eagerness is prevailing, so he leans back.

“I was scared, I wanted you and I convinced myself you were a one night stand so I could allow myself to have you, that’s why I picked the song. But when I woke up and you were curled up next to me I realised that I actually really liked the time we spent together. I panicked and I should have talked to you but I’m just... not good at this,” Will finishes and gestures between them. Tom feels his heart aching as it had on the night they met. He’d never made anyone scared before, in fact, he’d never really had much of an impact on anyone before so this was new to him.

“I thought you regretted it honestly. I kinda felt used,” Tom admits, looking away and begging the tears to stay back. This is an adult conversation, he needs to get a grip on himself again. He was doing so well and now he’s cowering like a deer in headlights. All of his self-control flies out the window when Will reaches over and takes his hand. Will’s palm is clammy and his hand engulfs Tom’s, wrapping it in heat.

“I’m so sorry, I should have been better. I’m an idiot but you’re the cutest person I’ve ever met and I don’t know how to act around you,” Will confesses and Tom looks up at his face, trying to tell if he’s sincere. When Will smiles for the first time that night with a big breath-taking, dimpled grin, Tom knows it’s for real. He takes a deep inhale and reaches up.  
“May I?” he whispers, his heart pounding so hard he wonders if his pulse is thumping on Will’s cheek. But he’s being charming and romantic so hopefully, Will sees past that.

“Yeah, please,” Will answers so softly and so unsurely that Tom leans forward and kisses him just to convey how adorable he thinks Will is. It’s different from the first time, it’s tender and gentle. No open mouths or tongues, just an act of two people who like each other. Tom keeps it brief, not wanting it to lead back into Will’s safe territory.  
“You’re not an idiot, I’m scared too. I was so desperate for something to happen between us but I could never believe you wanted me for more than sex,” Tom says, scooting closer to Will just so he can remember what it’s like to feel them together. Now he’s steering the conversation, he’s gained a bit more confidence. Sharing his feeling is something he’s better at than Will which isn’t much but he’ll take anything he can get.

“Is that why you accused me of cheating when it was my brother?” Will laughs and Tom cringes, he spoke too soon. His confidence clatters around him, almost deafening. That is something he’ll never live down.  
“In my defence, it was dark and he looks a lot like you,” Tom playfully argues back and Will seems to accept the joke.  
“I know, I’m just messing with you,” Will replies and Tom uses that moment of happiness to pull him in for another kiss. Mainly just to lead Will away from that embarrassing topic.

Will sneaks his arm around Tom’s back and holds him firmly. Tom can’t resist the smile that rises when he notices he’s shifted and is now cuddled up in Will’s arms. It is only a matter of time before he submits to Will, they are back to his territory now after all. Tom isn’t finding it as scary as he thought he would, it feels easier now he knows Will is inexperienced at something. It makes him a little more human.

“I know I’m bad at communicating and I’m scared of commitment but... can I take you out for dinner some time?” Will asks, chewing on the inside of his cheek and Tom badly stifles a smile in Will’s shirt.  
“I know I’m childish and I always think the worst, but I’d like that,” Tom responds, his eyes scanning Will’s face just as it breaks out into a light smile. They kiss again, so thankful that the emotions feel a little less scary now before they settle down and switch on the TV.

Will ends up taking Tom home once they’ve had a night of shared stories about their favourite TV shows and what they enjoy doing. They share quick kisses on the tube and hold hands walking down the street like teenagers. Tom feels like he’s living how he’s supposed to, like things are all fitting into place. Tom stands at the door when Will’s heading for home, a smile on his face and Will’s number in his phone. For once coming home doesn’t feel lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this one is a massive chapter. I'm super nervous about this because I don't have a beta so I've had to scan it over 20 times for mistakes myself! Please be gentle with my mistakes if there are any left, let me know and I'll recify them.
> 
> All info you may be confused on will be marked with a star and explained in the bottom notes.
> 
> A massive thank you to Alice (TomAndCherry) for all your help with the date ideas on this chapter and for generally being so lovely and supportive! I'm sorry I couldn't fit a John Mulaney quote in but I will make sure to at some point! <3

“Joe, are you sure it’s not too much?” Tom fusses with his hair in the mirror by the door, moving the gelled pieces mere millimetres before huffing and settling it back to before. He can hear his brother tutting and complaining but it goes in one ear and out the other. Joe rolls his eyes before fixing a stern expression and shifting to look at his brother in the mirror.

“You know what, you’re right. It looks terrible,” Joe says with a straight face, openly mocking the stress Tom is currently working through. Tom leans around, whacking his brothers arm with his fist.  
“Not funny, I really need this to go well,” Tom huffs, fidgeting with his shirt and practising his charming smile. His dimples don’t look normal but there’s not enough time to focus on that right now.

“Look, you’ve been stood at this mirror for an _hour_ Tommy. You need to chill,” Joe groans as he thumps down on the sofa with his beer in hand.  
“Ohhh, no you don’t. You are stayin' in your room, he’s gonna be here to pick me up any minute,” Tom rushes as he effectively shoves his brother back towards his bedroom, ensuring to keep the beer can FAR away from his outfit. Joe seizes Tom's shoulders and Tom’s breath catches.

“Watch the beer?! You’re gonna crease the shirt-“  
“Tommy, he has seen you before. You are being weird. I know it’s your first real date but just, stop,” Joe methodically states but Tom’s mind is reeling way too fast to take note of any of the garbled words that are being spoken to him. Halfway through Joe asking for the second time if Tom is listening, he hears a dainty knock at the door. That must be Will, oh no. Even his knock is cute.  
“Shit, okay,” Tom whispers to himself, everything he’s rushed in the past few hours suddenly seems like he’s scarcely scratched the surface but now Will is here. Will is at the door ready to take him on a date. Oh god.

“Tom, get the door and don’t be... whatever this is,” Joe says, waving his hand over his brother’s general being and that’s the first time Tom registers his words. He can do this, it’s fine. He’s totally good to go on a romantic date with Will.  
“Okay, I got it,” Tom whispers as he draws a breath.  
“Go get him, Tommy,” Joe scoffs as he ruffles Tom’s hair and slips into the safety of his bedroom with a snort.  
“JOE, are you fuckin' kidding me?” Tom mutters, frantically settling his hair back into place when there’s another knock at the door and a muffled voice.

“Uh, hello Tom? do I have the right place?” Will’s voice dubiously shouts through the door. Tom scrambles to open it, terrified Will might walk away. He skids over and is greeted by Will hovering awkwardly in the doorframe. Sometimes Tom forgets how tall he is but stood in the hallway of his tiny flats, he practically covers the space with his muscular arms and his broad chest.

He’s dressed so much more eloquently this time, his hair still in its signature messy quiff and his shirt is rolled at the sleeves but he’s in a suit. A full, no expenses spared outfit. His shirt is a cream colour, slightly baggy but tucked meticulously into his thick belt and his deep black blazer with a cream pocket is hanging off his arm. What makes Tom’s breath catch in his throat is the trousers, they must be high-waisted and perfectly tailored as his legs extend for miles in them. He looks elegant and sophisticated yet the cosiness still drips off him as he greets, offering forward some flowers.  
“For you,” Will states as if that wasn’t obvious and Tom’s heart could melt and drip down his legs right now. The yellow flowers are bunched with a red ribbon and Tom’s name is neatly written on the crest of one of the loops.  
“They’re, uh, really nice. Thank you,” Tom stutters, a little speechless as he brushes his thumb over the bow and wonders when he fell asleep and began this gorgeous dream.

“I wrote your name on there myself, sorry if it’s a bit cheesy. I’m not used to this date stuff,” Will frowns and shrugs, curling his shoulders inwards and scratching the back of his arm. Tom briefly pictures Will delicately writing his name in a fancy script on the ribbon and he wonders how he got so lucky that Will is even giving him a chance.  
“Uh, come in for a sec, I’ll give these to my brother to look after and then we can head out,” Tom says and Will nods, carefully wandering in and sitting on the sofa.

Tom takes this chance to race into Joe’s bedroom, beaming smile on his face as he plasters his back on the shut door. Joe looks up from where he’s lying on the bed, confused for a brief moment before spotting the bouquet.  
“Joe, look!” Tom whispers as he thrusts them out and Joe takes them out of his hands, studying around the plastic securing them together.  
“Careful! What are you do-“  
“Not petrol station either, looks like you’ve got a good one there Tom,” Joe nods, a wistful smile on his face as he studies Tom’s name on the bow.

“He even wrote my name on them,” Tom exclaims, Joe hums except he isn’t paying attention, there’s a knowing smile on his face, “oh god, I didn’t get him anything! Quick, get me something!” Tom rushes, his eyes stretching wide in realisation as he speeds around the room.  
“Hey, woah, you’ll just look like you’re doing it for the sake of it. Stop panicking,” Joe snaps back into reality and Tom takes a deep breath.  
“Okay, you’re right. But oh god Joe he’s in a suit, like a full-on wedding suit,” Tom rushes, looking down at his own casual outfit before dragging his hand over his face. Tonight’s already a disaster and he hasn’t even left his own house yet.

“Jesus, uh, okay well I’ve got a blazer here, maybe that will work better,” Joe offers as he gets up and flicks through his wardrobe, the hangers screeching and making Tom cringe.  
“Try this,” Joe says as he unhooks a blazer and launches the garment over to Tom who eagerly throws it on and runs to Joe’s mirror.  
“Okay, a bit long but if I fold up the sleeves...” Tom fiddles with the pocket and the button while Joe is altering the rest of his outfit.  
“Better?” Tom asks, unsure if he wants to know the answer.  
“Better,” Joe confirms, brushing off his shoulders and practically pushing him to the door. He hovers there for a moment before stepping out when he’s sure he’s ready. He’s greeted with Will still sat in the exact same place.

“Sorry about that, had to talk to him. You ready?” Tom establishes a brave face, hoping Will doesn’t notice the lack of a gift or the quick outfit change. Luckily he doesn’t seem phased at all as he nods and they leave the flat.

“I have a bit of a surprise for you,” Will insinuates with a knowing smirk as he reaches out and takes Tom’s hand confidently. They arrive at the front doors and Tom is about to question what the grand mystery is until he notices the car parked outside. It’s beautiful, glimmering even in the gloom of the street. A classic car, elements of a 60’s Chevrolet throughout it. And it’s painted a profound purple, well the sections that aren’t covered in mud are. Tom is speechless as he steps towards it. He reaches out to touch but a hand is placed swiftly but tenderly atop his.  
“Let me,” Will says, opening the back door before Tom can. Tom gives him a quirked eyebrow as he slips in.  
“Hmm, very romantic,” Tom replies, taking note of how breath-taking Will looks from this angle before his eyes are drawn forward to see who’s driving. Fuck.

“Oh... hi Ned,” Tom attempts to not let the sudden intimidation show as he shuffles over and puts his seatbelt on.  
“Sorry, he’s the only one who can drive and has a nice car,” Will gives him an apologetic expression as he buckles in and takes ahold of Tom’s hand again. As soon as the car starts up, loud punk music clatters through the speakers making both boys jump. Tom is a little optimistic in believing Ned would apologise and turn it down, instead he begins singing along. Will sends over yet another ‘kicked puppy’ look, mouthing ‘sorry’ this time. They sit in their own silence, Tom frantically running through if he has any painkiller for the headache that’s coming on. Will is playing with Tom’s fingers which is thankfully distracting his mind enough as to not be nervous about what’s coming up.

“Hey Tom?” an Australian accent calls from the front of the car, barely audible over the death metal currently playing. Tom wonders if it’s possible to play something so loud it can imprint itself on your brain.  
“Yeah?” Tom says quietly enough that it might prompt Ned to turn the volume down. Ned evidently isn’t bothered by what Tom said, either that or he’s exceptional at reading lips from the front mirror.  
“Anything happens to Will and you got me to answer to, you get that?” Ned threatens, his eyes still managing to shoot him daggers even whilst driving through London.  
“He’ll be okay I swear, I'll be good to him,” Tom replies, not caring if Ned heard it but particularly interested in Will’s reaction. However, it seems like Will is more focussed on the humiliation of his brother talking to his date to enjoy Tom’s supportive words for long. Ned nods before he returns to focus on the music and Will is staring out the window.

Fortunately, the drive only takes about 15 minutes however with Ned’s screaming and headbanging it seems like he’s hammered 5 albums into Tom’s brain and turned it to liquid. The cool air is soothing once Ned pulls over and Tom slips out of the car, almost tripping in haste to get out of the noise. Will joins him on the pavement and they share a mutual ‘thank god that’s over’ look. Although just before his Ned encounter ends, he has to drag it out just a bit longer. As they head towards the venue, Tom hears Will’s name being called as it echoes along the, thankfully empty, street.  
“Hey, Will, here,” Ned yells from the driver's seat and Will rolls his eyes, huffing over to the open window.

“Remember swift kick to the balls brings ‘em down, make sure he’s not a fucking tory and your condoms are in your socks. Oh, and show him some respect, got it?” Ned lists and Will looks thoroughly humiliated as he nods along but Tom stifles a giggle. At least the lessons are there, albeit in a bit of a crude way. Ned throws a £5 note at Will as he drives away, yelling something to do with a tip but the music playing drowns him out the second the engine starts up again. Will looks despairingly at the note before shoving it in his back pocket.

“I’m sorry about him, seemed a great idea at the time,” Will winces, looking disheartened and Tom refuses to let family spoil their night.  
“It was sweet, and for the record please don’t kick me in the balls, I’m not a tory and... why do you keep your condoms in your sock?” Tom relists back and luckily it induces a smile to Will’s face. It must bring his confidence up too as he takes Tom’s hand and begins strolling along the path.  
“Because I don’t want to have condoms falling out of my pocket on a fancy dinner date,” Will laughs, shaking his head as he looks to the floor. Tom couldn’t find him any more beautiful, the streetlamps leaving a glow on his face. Maybe tonight can be salvaged after that wreck of a drive.

“Fancy?” Tom repeats, nervous as Will refused to explain anything over text. Will gazes at him with a glint in his eye.  
“Yes, and we’re almost there so I’m going to cover your eyes and direct you,” Will states and Tom feels a definite heat stir with those words. He giggles nervously as Will steps behind him and asks hesitantly if he can place his hands over Tom’s eyes ‘just to make sure you won’t cheat’. Tom obliges and they shuffle awkwardly towards the door, laughing like children.

“Okay step over the doorframe here,” Will instructs and Tom shakily puts his foot forward. He feels Will step in behind him and hears the door close but Will’s massive palms cloak any chance of his vision being of use to him. He hears Will talking quietly to what he assumes is a waiter.  
“Yeah, it’s under William, not Ned, William Kelly,” he says and Tom fights the urge to turn to Will, that full name doesn’t sound right. But before he can question it, he’s being led down some stairs.

Clearly Will hadn’t thought this bit through as attempting to hold your hands over someone’s eyes whilst walking down stairs behind them is not something people can do gracefully. Two steps in he feels Will’s hands lift and a breathy whisper in his ear that sends shivers through him.  
“I’ll have to trust you not to cheat, but that should be easy since we know who’s the cheater here,” Will giggles and the comment is harmless, there’s no vicious intent behind it. Tom shakes his head with a sigh, that’s always going to stick with him.

He makes it safely down the stairs only slipping his eyes open for a split second when he thought he was falling but otherwise, he’s good. Will then takes his hand and positions him.  
“Okay, open,” Will says, placing an arm around his waist.

Tom is expecting maybe a big ballroom or a fancy table under a chandelier, what he isn’t expecting is the tiniest space he’s ever seen. But it’s also the sweetest, the space is just big enough for him to fit along the middle and the sides are lined with wooden planks. He thinks that maybe this is an arty hallway, fairy lights strung from the ceiling and plant leaves hanging from the corners.

“Follow me, sirs,” the waiter leads them forward and as Tom follows he can see little wooden booths with roses placed in the middle. The whole space is so warm and romantic that Tom thinks his heart might burst.  
“Okay, your upstairs table, Mr Kelly,” the waiter finishes and Will nods with a quick ‘thank you’. Tom turns to Will, two couples sitting and eating either side of them.

“Where’s our table?” Tom whispers, not wanting to be rude but he isn’t understanding how they could fit in anywhere around here. Will smirks, gesturing directly in front of him.  
“After you,” he says, and Tom glances forwards. Before him are some black steps connected to a metal pipe and Tom looks between them just to make sure he’s understanding Will correctly. He begins to climb, his sweaty palms and the knowledge that Will is definitely seeing his trousers tight on his arse not helping. Finally, he reaches the top and his excitement builds.

[There’s a collection of cushions on two wooden seats.](https://mclennondreams.tumblr.com/post/617851402651336704/buenosera-at-the-jam-tom-blake-and-will) He slides over to the right one and that’s when he notices that there’s a whole other group of couples around them sitting above the ground. The table is covered in rose petals with a flower the same as Will had given to him placed in the middle. The whole display is beautiful and Tom thinks that if Will was a place, this would be it. Will slides in opposite him, a nervous expression on his face.

“You said in your texts you weren’t afraid of much, I figured that included heights?” Will says in a questioning tone and Tom is awestruck. He leans forward, cupping Will’s cheek in his.  
“It’s perfect,” he whispers, kissing him softly. He can’t think of a more beautiful setting for a first date.

“At the door you said Kelly,” Tom says once they’ve both decided on what they want.  
“Oh yeah, my family’s a mess. Lots of half brothers, my real name is William Schofield but I use Kelly, easier,” Will explains and Tom figures he can’t speak on having a messy family so he nods.  
“What about your family, you live with your brother right?” Will asks and thankfully Tom can hear the tell-tale rattling of the stairs on the metal pipe to cut off that conversation quickly. That’s a conversation for a whole other date, or maybe five.

“Hello, here’s your customary bread basket. Can I take your order or would you like more time to decide?” the waiter asks, charming smile on his face as he balances on the ladder yet doesn’t look nervous at all.  
“Uh yeah can I have the Tagliatelle Primavera* with a bottle of Canalicchio di Sopra Brunello di Montalcino* please?” Will pronounces immaculately and Tom’s brain malfunctions at the thought of him being able to speak like that. He wonders where Will picked that up and if he’s fluent, then again, Will seems to be good at everything except relationships so it’s not a surprise. Tom thinks about if that language ever makes it out of restaurants and into other places because he can imagine Will would be awfully good at speaking it in bed, maybe more specifically between his thighs-  
“I’ll, um, I-I’ll have the uh, Spiedino Di Carne* please,” Tom stutters out before his mind wanders further down that trail. He’s sure by this point he’s turned bright red but hopefully, the dark light will conceal it. All he knows is his order is meat on a skewer and that will do.

He has no idea what wine Will ordered but he trusts that if he knows the name of it, it must be good. The waiter climbs down and shoots off to start their order and this is Tom’s chance to commence another conversation before Will tries to renew the old one.  
“You speak much Italian then?” Tom asks, silently deciding on whether the bread is a good idea or if it will just fill him up. His stomach is already in knots as it is, god forbid he get ill on this date.  
“No, not really. Just picked some up from travelling with the band,” Will shrugs off and it’s yet another reminder that Will is older and more experienced than Tom, even if it's merely a few years. Tom daren’t pry open that fact for fear of making himself look dumber than he already feels.

“Oh nice, how long has the band been going?” Tom asks, deciding to pick up a roll and begin chewing on it to stop himself thinking about the stupid roll.  
“I’ve only been doing it for a few years. Ned started the band, he used to be lead but then he left to go to Australia and a few of the Kelly gang took over until I was old enough,” Will laughs, doing air quotes with ‘gang’ before placing his hand a little further across the table. It’s like he’s unsure if he wants Tom to hold his hand or not. Tom isn’t quite sure either.

“Are the other guys your family too then?” Tom asks, wondering if all this time Dan was Will’s brother. That would make sense as to why he knows so much about Will’s emotions.  
“I-I prefer not to speak about family too much i-if that’s okay?” Will says after a moment of stuttering and a pleading look. Tom realises at that moment when Will looks at him that if he said it wasn’t okay and prompted him further, Will would give him everything. Even though Tom would never do that, to see that Will is so giving to him despite how typically closed off he is makes Tom want to take care of him.

“Of course, I hate talking about family too,” Tom responds with a reassuring smile before being brave and taking Will’s hand in his. He kisses it gently before placing it back on the table and Will stifles what sounded like the beginnings of a squeak into his shoulder as he fake coughs. Tom can’t help but shake his head, his expression surely beaming the fondness he has all the way across the space. Thank god this place is low lit. Fairy lights are now a blessing to him.

Before he can say something ridiculously cheesy and most likely ruin the moment, the waiter appears at the side of their table with their wine and plates. Tom’s amazed at how quick their meals come until he notices that it’s not what he ordered. Or at least he hopes it’s not.

“Gentleman, would you like to taste the wine?” He offers and Will looks to Tom for clarification, Tom sends a completely blank look back.  
“Uh, no thanks. We’ll just take it, thank you,” Will replies smoothly. Thank god for his people skills because Tom is failing dramatically. Typically he’d be the life and soul of the party but around Will, he’s silent, nervous to say something wrong or immature. The wine is poured out for them and the bottle left on the table.  
“Here is your hors d'oeuvre, your meal is on its way soon,” the waiter states before hastily leaving again. Tom looks down at the plate, wanting to ask what it is and why the hell it’s there but Will already seems to be eating so he shrugs and eats it regardless. From the first mouthful, he knows he’s in big trouble.  
He forgot to tell Will he’s allergic to seafood.

He won’t die from it, so he typically tends to neglect to mention it however he can see some sort of cut-up fish in this and he’s one hundred percent going to break out in a nasty rash. Despite the fact he knows it wouldn’t be embarrassing if he just told Will and left the plate, Will is now talking about how delicious it is and Tom can’t bring himself to say anything so he begins to eat. He tries to avoid the fish, slowly eating the garnish around it whilst pretending to listen to Will but he knows how itchy it’s going to get. His only hope is the dark light can save him for the rest of the night until he’s home.

“Hey, are you okay? You seem zoned out. Do you not like it?” Will asks seemingly genuinely concerned and the look on his face forces a grin onto Tom’s.  
“No it’s great, just don’t want to fill up on it before I get the main course,” Tom lies, he’s cramping with hunger because he was scared that exact thing would happen. But he forces the plate aside and prays that it’s a delayed reaction if nothing else.

By the time their food comes, they’re in a comfortable talking place. The conversation isn’t as stilted and their wine appears to be taking a relaxing effect. When the food is placed in front of them it takes all of Tom’s willpower not to completely devour it in 5 minutes flat, instead, he gradually cuts it up and delicately eats. Thankfully it’s incredible so he doesn’t have to worry about cooking dinner again when he gets home.

“So you were saying you like to game right?” Will prompts and Tom smiles, finally something he can relax talking about.  
“Yeah, I stream it sometimes. Makes me enough to help out with the rent,” Tom replies, his skewers emptying extremely fast given that Will has only begun on the garnish. Tom looks up to see Will struggling on what to say next, his mouth opening and closing before eventually he gives up and hums. Tom’s heart sinks a little and he wishes he had some cooler hobbies to tell Will about. All he has is gaming and storytelling. If only Will liked stories. He shoves down the last of one of his sticks to stop himself saying something stupid.

“The stories you tell, do you write them?” Will asks, clearly picking on his very limited knowledge of Tom’s even more limited hobbies.  
“No, I’m better at telling them. I’m terrible at writing,” Tom laughs and they go quiet again. Every sentence seems to be the death of the conversation.  
“Oh, I was meaning to ask you, what is My Honest Face about? I really like it,” Tom figures adding a compliment might help things flow a little smoother.  
“I don’t like to talk about what my songs are about. I usually let people decide what they think it’s about, gives people more connection to it,” Will answers and damn it, come on. Tom pleads for Will to add something, just give him something to work with but he’s back to eating again.

“Do you have one of those lyric notebooks that you carry around all the time?” Tom asks, hoping that the answer will give him more information for his cosy ‘Will scribbling lyrics into a journal by the fire’ narrative.  
“Uh... usually I type them up on my phone,” Will answers after waiting for his mouth to clear. Tom looks down and mutters an ‘ah right’, giving up on trying to get any information out of Will.

Tom can feel a tingle of the allergy beginning to work its way onto his skin and he thinks this is quite possibly the most downhill date anyone has ever had. It started so well and now he’s struggling for anything to say. They’ve done the easy topics but most things are stuff they both prefer not to speak about. Family, lyrics, hobbies, stories, languages, the band, the list seems to be getting longer. Tom almost wants to grab him and shake him whilst screaming ‘what do you want me to say’. But instead, he finishes off his meal and downs the wine suspiciously fast.

Will takes his hand again once he sees Tom is no longer holding cutlery and instead of giving him butterflies, it makes him feel like a kid being given bad news. If there was such a thing as a sympathy handhold, this is what Tom imagines it would feel like. Things have gone quiet and as the restaurant empties, the pauses seem louder and louder as Will finishes his small dish.

“That meal was amazing, right?” Will says, wiping his mouth and taking a delicate sip of his wine.  
“It was nice yeah, thank you for bringing me here. It’s really cute,” Tom says sincerely, turning to look around now the place is less polluted. It seems like a little hideaway, like a treehouse he would have dreamt up in one of his stories as a child.  
“Yeah, I figured there’s something cosy about it, you know?” Will says, and Tom regrets looking over because the lights are reflecting in Will’s deep brown eyes and nobody should be able to look this flawless from every single angle.

They finish the wine off whilst making idle conversation and Tom can feel the pushing between them. It’s like they’re rushing to end it and it’s almost a sigh of relief when the bill is placed on their table with a warning they’ll be shutting in 10 minutes. Tom takes his wallet out at the same time as Will but Will politely lays his hand out before Tom can place down any money.  
“It’s on me,” Will says before planting at least eight twenty pound notes down on the tray, if not more. Tom’s head nearly spins at how much Will spent on him.

“I’ll climb down first, to be safe,” Will offers as he slips down with no effort whatsoever. Tom uses the tiny second he gets alone to check his reaction, oh god that’s a big rash forming. He shyly places his foot on the first step and twists, gripping the table for dear life. It was easy getting up somewhat gracefully but getting down is a different matter entirely. Tom just about thinks he’s got it when his foot slips and he jolts to the floor. Before he can even register that he’s slipping, Will’s arms are on his waist.

“You okay?” Will rushes and although his ankle hurts and he kind of feels like he wants to cry, he puts a smile on.  
“Yeah fine, the wine just made me a little out of balance,” he comments although he knows his alcohol tolerance and unless that wine is made of straight vodka, he’ll be fine.  
“Alright, I ordered us an Uber so we should get going,” Will says, taking Tom’s hand and leading him outside. As he walks back up the stairs he wishes he still held that same excitement as when he went down them.

They get outside and the air immediately feels like it’s tickling Tom’s rash with a million feathers. He tries to discreetly rub his arm but that just makes it worse. He hasn’t noticed but Will’s eyes must have been on him for the past few moments.  
“You’ve been fidgety all night, are you okay?” Will asks and Tom considers lying again but that means he has to deal with it all internally and he already is sure he’s going to explode in a few minutes. He figures this went so badly he may as well spill the truth.

“I, uh, I’m allergic to the seafood in the first... thing. Now I have a rash, b-but don’t worry, you can’t catch it,” Tom rushes to clarify and the way Will’s face sinks makes Tom wish he’d kept it a secret.  
“You should have said, Tom, I’m so sorry. If I made you feel at all like you had to eat it or-“  
“No, no you didn’t. I was just so nervous and I wanted to make a good impression. It was stupid,” Tom cuts Will off because he could never bear to let him blame himself for Tom’s mistakes.  
“Why don’t you come to mine, I’ve got some cream at home,” Will offers and Tom is both flattered and shocked by the offer. Although it’s sweet, it’s most likely just a purely friendly offer and a chance for Will to break it off easily. Tom says yes though, just to get rid of this god awful itching.

They rush to Will’s, the drive seeming a lot faster now that Ned’s music isn’t erupting his eardrums and as soon as they’re through the door Will is searching. Tom wanders in as Will is frantically rifling through the cupboards. He sits down just as he hears a celebratory ‘ah’.  
“Got it,” Will smiles, sitting beside Tom. Tom reaches over to roll his sleeve up and sees the red patches littering his arm. Will hisses and rubs a clear patch of skin with his thumb in sympathy.  
“May I?” Will asks while taking the lid off, Tom squints his eyes.  
“Don’t you find it gross?” he asks, not even wanting to look at it himself.  
“No, used to do this for Dan a lot when he had allergies,” Will shrugs as he takes a blob of cream on his fingers and begins to spread it along Tom’s skin. Although he hisses from the cold, some of the itching instantly relents and it’s a massive relief.

“Better?” Will asks with a smile as he spreads it around.  
“Much better,” Tom replies, his cheeks heating up again in embarrassment. Will keeps delicately dispersing the cream, his fingers barely grazing Tom’s skin.

“I enjoyed tonight,” Will says, no hint of sarcasm or a lie showing. Tom thinks it must be in sympathy now Will has seen his rash.  
“Yeah,” Tom gives a vague response that can’t confirm or deny either way. Will sees straight through it and it’s almost like a bit of the invisible tension Tom feels snaps.  
“I’m sensing you didn’t, you’ve been a bit off all night,” Will says and Tom isn’t quite sure what to make of that, “if you don’t like me that way, you can say. I won’t be offended.” Will smiles genuinely yet his eyes tell a different story. Will’s hurt and he doesn’t even know why. Tom’s childish overthinking has ruined things again.

“I’m sorry, I really like you it’s just that I-I was so nervous and I got your text this morning saying you wanted to go out tonight, I didn’t have anything prepared and usually I’m fine with that but you’re just so damn amazing that I feel like I have to become a man that you deserve,” Tom rambles before physically biting his tongue so he can’t say anymore. Will looks somewhat shocked but also in other ways not surprised at all.  
“I thought we said we’d get better at this whole communication thing,” Will chuckles and Tom looks down.

“I don’t want you to become something you’re not, especially not for me. I don’t want you to be scared to speak up or think you’ve made a mistake so you're childish and everything’s ruined. I fell for the Tom I met in the bar, the one that wouldn’t get in a mosh pit because he was holding a pint or who swore when he didn’t have his gloves in his pocket. The one that doesn’t care what I think,” Will says and Tom realises this whole night he’s just spent being someone else to try and please Will when all he wanted was the real Tom. He doesn’t want fancy Tom or well educated Tom or not clumsy Tom.

“I’m sorry,” Tom apologises, his throat closing in in an attempt to stop the tears.  
“I can already see you’re blaming yourself, don’t. I am scared too, I saw you trying to get to know me and I cut off completely. I barely asked you anything,” Will admits, the cream settling in so Will ends up just gently rubbing the delicate skin.  
“Yeah, you weren’t making it too easy, but I wasn’t either,” Tom comments, looking down and wondering where this is going.  
“We messed up again didn’t we?” Will asks but it’s more of a statement. Tom nods, wondering how many times this has to happen before they give up.

“Come here,” Will says, opening his arms and as much as Tom is desperate to crawl into them, he knows the dams will break.  
“I-I, uh,” He stutters but he can’t find it in him to turn Will away so he just perches awkwardly. Will reaches up with his clean hand, cupping Tom’s cheek.  
“I know you feel lonely and like you’ve messed everything up. And the reason I know that is because I feel it too. But I want to do this, so no matter how many bad dates or awkward silences we have, it won’t ruin it because we're together and it's a damn lot better than being by ourselves or with our stupid family,” Will says and Tom can’t hold back his tear as it rolls down his face. Will moves the cream and wipes the excess off with a tissue before pulling Tom in. He snuggles into Will easily, having wanted to do so all night. They settle into the sofa, Tom’s arm laid out in the air.

“Ask me something you were scared to ask me,” Will says while his fingers are playing with Tom’s hair.  
“What?” Tom responds, looking up at Will from where his head is resting on Will’s chest.  
“You kept going to say things and then stopping, tell me one of them,” Will explains and Tom thinks for a minute before coming up with a question.

“Have you ever spoke a different language in bed?” Tom asks with a grin, resting his head on Will’s shoulder so he can see his reaction. He laughs, clearly, it’s not the deep and profound life question he was expecting.  
“Uh, no I don’t think so. I can only really say names of food and places so I don’t think it’d be very sexy.” Will’s dimpled grin makes the question a million percent worth it.

“Okay, you go,” Tom says and Will looks up, humming for a second before landing on an idea.  
“Is hair pulling a kink or just a trigger to make you come? Since we’re going for sexual questions after all,” Will responds and Tom feels himself squirming at just the thought.  
“Don’t know, think it’s just a kink,” Tom answers, wishing he could give Will more information on the subject.

“So what happens if I just... Can I?” Will reaches up as Tom nods eagerly and he can tell it’s going to happen seconds before it does. His breath catches as Will’s fingers sneak across his scalp before they twitch and yank. Tom lets out an involuntary moan, squeezing his eyes shut and crossing his legs. It was a close call but his underwear is still very much dry. He turns to Will to joke about it but instead, he sees the most hungry gaze he’s ever witnessed.

“Fuck me that was hot,” Will mutters, chewing on his lip and shifting on his seat before letting out a nervous laugh. Tom isn’t sure whether to play up to it or joke it off, but if Will wants the real Tom then he should get it.  
“It felt so fucking good,” Tom leans in and whispers into Will’s ear. He can hear the quick hitch of Will’s breath as he gently takes the lobe into his mouth. Will’s arms reach to his waist, turning on his side so they’re facing each other.

“I want to do this but it’s only a first date, should we wait?” Will asks and the nervous question seems exactly like something Tom would say.  
“We’ve already done it so, nothing to lose now,” Tom shrugs and before Will can come back with anything Tom kisses him hard, pulling him closer and intertwining their legs. They make out for a while, Will’s fingers carding through his hair and Tom’s hands roaming his broad shoulders. Everything feels more intimate now even though they still have clothes on.

“Wanted to do this all night. You look so hot in that suit,” Tom mutters, his hands trailing down Will’s front.  
“You have no idea how crazy you make me,” Will breathily whispers before mouthing hot kisses down Tom’s neck. Tom lifts his head back and moans low and deep as Will nuzzles into his shoulder, his tongue heated against Tom’s skin. Everything feels hot and heavy and as Will’s fingers pinch and tug at his hair and his crotch is rubbing against Will’s thigh, he feels the warmth begin to spread. He lets it continue, basking in the joy of having nothing but Will on his mind until it hits him that if he doesn’t stop he’s going to come.

“Will, fuck, wait. I-I’m not gonna last,” Tom warns, he’d been so stressed about the date all day he’d forgotten to get off before he left. He can’t believe he was so stupid to forget such a crucial thing.  
“Hey, I can feel you stressing, stop it,” Will whispers as his hands rush to massage Tom’s shoulders, turning gentle so fast it makes Tom’s head spin. He looks at Will and he sees a caring, soothing smile. He realises that if Will was going to get frustrated with him, he would have done it by now so he relaxes and allows him to continue. Will gives him a break for a while, kissing his cheek softly and Tom pulls Will closer, needing to hold him tight.

“Stop doing what you think you should do. Will you let me make you feel good love?” Will whispers after a moment and Tom nods, trying to keep calm and just let things happen.  
“Alright, stay like that, tell me if you want to stop,” Will says, enjoying the way Tom settles down if the fond grin on his face is any indication. He starts by taking Tom’s shirt off, being careful to avoid the rash before trailing his fingers over Tom’s naked top half. He circles his nipples before tracing lower, his fingertips running over his stomach in minute patterns.

“Good?” Will checks in and Tom’s never felt so at ease before. The low tone of Will’s voice rumbles along Tom’s body.  
“Yes sir,” Tom responds and it takes a second to click in his pleasure hazed body but when he does his eyes widen.  
“Fuck, sorry, I-I didn’t mean-“ Tom rushes, leaning up on his elbows but Will just places a hand on his chest and lowers him back down.

“It’s okay, I can be sir if you want?” Will offers and Tom debates it.  
“Isn’t it a bit much for a first date?” Tom asks, his arms instinctively covering his stomach.  
“If it’s what we want then I don’t see why not. But you’ll have to stay over, I need to give you aftercare,” Will says, kissing Tom’s reddened cheeks.  
“Aftercare?” Tom squints, not quite sure what that’s supposed to mean.  
“Maybe we shouldn’t if you don’t know what you’re getting into,” Will says and Tom rushes to grab Will’s hand.  
“I-I want to, it’s okay. I know the basics, traffic light, subspace, I get it. Just didn't think I'd need aftercare but I trust you,” Tom says and Will internally battles the idea in his head.

“Well, this is an interesting first date activity,” Will’s eyes widen and he shakes his head fondly. They start kissing again to get back into the mood, Will begins to mark Tom up, small bruises blossoming on his neck.  
“You gonna be good for me?” Will asks, testing the waters to see if Tom’s relaxed enough. He giggles, enjoying the way Will’s hands spread over his chest.  
“Yeah,” he breathes out, letting his head fall back and the night's worries leave him.  
“Yes what?” Will hesitantly asks, treading a very careful line. Tom opens his eyes and looks deep into Will’s.  
“Yes sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hors d'oeuvre (starter): Seafood salad  
> Will's meal: Pasta with fresh asparagus, wild mushrooms, tomato and cream.  
> The wine: 2015 Canalicchio Di Sopra Brunello Di Montalcino from Tuscany in Italy, Red wine.  
> Tom's meal: Skewers of chicken, lamb and italian sausages in garlic and white wine sauce with potatoes and broccoli.
> 
> The venue:Bueno Sera at The Jam, an italian restaurant in Chelsea, London. Sadly not a venue in London anymore I don't think.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy, let me know what you think in the comments.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm steadily growing this fic and I really hope people are enjoying it! Again, not beta'd so if there's inconsistencies please let me know!

Will strips himself of his shirt, making sure to keep his eyes trained to Tom as he does so. Tom waits patiently, his breathing slow and rhythmic in the rise and falls of his chest as he gazes at Will hungrily. Each button is being undone agonisingly slow, his long fingers effortlessly popping them open. Tom has never wanted to be bossed around by a man so much before but the second he sees Will with his shirt half hanging from his shoulder, all he can do is submit to his every need. Tom’s neck is glimmering with kisses and bites, all implying the same thing. You’re mine.

“Will you be good for me, Tommy?” Will teases, chucking aside the shirt while he cocks his chin upwards but Tom’s face screws up instantly. God that’s definitely not what he wants to hear in bed, no matter how sexy Will is making it sound. Before Tom can even overthink whether he should mention it to Will or not, Will must panic at the lack of reaction as he’s immediately pausing and freezing up. The persona change is quite shocking, Tom’s seen Will do it between on and off stage but this is so much more intimate.

“Need to stop Tom? Use your traffic light system for me,” Will rushes, looking down on Tom and he shakes his head slowly. He puts his hands over his face to block Will’s worried glare, cringing at how it’s already going badly and they’ve barely even started.  
“Green but Tommy, ‘s my brother’s nickname for me,” Tom says, opening his eyes and giggling a little. Will grimaces, his face screwing up as he sighs.  
“Oh god, sorry, won’t use it again. Blake off the cards too?” Will asks quietly, tilting his head like a puppy and Tom nods, his eyes slipping shut again. Will probably doesn’t even notice he’s doing it but the cute finger tapping he repeats on Tom’s chest is soothing.

“Okay, good, anything else? Is your rash okay?” Will checks and Tom shakes his head before nodding, just wanting to get on with it before his brain catches up with the moment and flings a ton of insecurities at him.  
“I need words,” Will prompts, his fingers gently stroking Tom’s cheek as if to coax him back up to the real world for a moment.  
“No sir, Everything's fine,” Tom responds and Will traces a finger across his lips. With that one word, everything feels like it’s switched, like before his world was black and grey and now it’s in vibrant colour.

“Good boy,” he praises and Tom’s dick twitches at that, the fabric of his tight trousers straining at the crotch. Will must feel it because a low rumbling chuckle escapes from his chest. Tom stays as still as he can, needing desperately for Will to praise him. All of a sudden Will’s fingers gently push into his mouth and he opens his eyes to see Will above him smirking. Oh, this is going to fuel his wanking sessions for _weeks_.

He eagerly takes them, running his tongue around the digits and keeping his eyes trained upwards. His rounded cheeks hollow as he sucks them hard, dragging them to the back of his throat with suction. He can feel the spit threatening to leak out between the two fingers but he likes that idea. He never expected this to be something he’s into but he can add it to the list for sure. Will begins thrusting them, his gaze hard and unforgiving and Tom feels a craving to push himself. He begins to bob his head, twisting it when he needs the extra element of surprise.  
“Dirty boy,” Will comments, the first hint of lust seeping into his expression and voice. He drags his fingers out, millimetre by millimetre, his face gradually tilting upwards as he does. Tom follows them, extending his neck to keep them in as long as possible.

Tom resists the urge to whine when his mouth is empty again. He’s never had fingers in his mouth before but now he feels like something's missing there. He’s contemplating asking Will to put them back in when Will begins to undo Tom’s trousers. He slides down, perching on Tom’s legs as he fiddles with the button. Tom squirms impatiently as it’s not fast enough, he can feel himself getting wet at the thought of seeing Will naked again.

“Keep still, don’t wanna have to punish you,” Will warns in an authoritative tone and a shiver runs its way down Tom’s body at the very suggestion of Will’s large palms slapping his skin in punishment. God this is the hottest thing that has ever happened to him. He’s seen it in porn but the way Will is gently removing every item of clothing on him from the feet up and devouring him with his eyes is the most erotic sight he’s ever witnessed.

“Do you want me to touch you, hey?” Will says once Tom is in his underwear, letting his hand rest at the crotch but almost hovering, the head hitting his palm every time he twitches. He looks so far away, sitting by Tom’s legs. Tom looks down, the choices seem overwhelming to his hazy brain so he blurts out what he really wants.

“Want you, sir,” Tom pouts, reaching out and making grabby hands while hoping his eyes will persuade Will to give Tom what he wants. It clearly works as Will chuckles and begins removing his own trousers. He startlingly manages to shove everything aside in a few seconds flat.  
“You want me? Alright then little menace,” Will teases, a hint of his non-dominant self poking through. He climbs over where Tom is lying on the sofa and slots their bodies together.

“Hello,” Will smiles innocently, the tip of his nose lightly brushing Tom’s in a lull moment. Tom reaches up, his thumb rubbing over Will’s dimples. Before he can speak, Will is adjusting the way he’s lying. He feels his thighs being wrapped around Will’s waist and his head moved to rest on the cushion. Once Will is satisfied, he leans up on his elbows and studies Tom’s face.  
“You’re so beautiful,” Will whispers, pressing delicate kisses all over as Tom reaches up and cuddles against Will. They hold that for a moment, everything tightly packed together.

“Now, there’s one rule that I need you to follow, okay?” Will asks directly into Tom’s ear, the hot breaths fanning over his neck and face. Tom almost whimpers before remembering he has to respond with words.  
“Y-Yes sir,” Tom manages to utter under his breath. Will starts to circle his hips down on Tom’s slowly, the friction hard but minimal. It’s enough to tease him back into being a good boy.

“You will come whenever you want to and you won’t apologise for it. Do you understand that Tom?” Will states as he pulls away and Tom nods, looking up to Will with wide eyes and pursed lips as he hums. He knows Will is going to take care of him and the fact that Will’s only command is to not hide his pleasure is making his heart ache.

“Good,” Will purrs before grinding down hard and fast, knocking the breath from Tom’s lungs. He moans loud, his whole body writhing as Will grinds down on him relentlessly. Tom anticipates a lot of things, but he never could have seen that coming. At the beginning, he scrambles to try and find his brain before he inevitably lets go and gets consumed in the feeling of being pleasured.

“Does that feel nice? That’s it, let sir take care of you,” Will encourages as Tom arches up into him. Between the teasing and the gentle words, Tom is already completely gone but now he can’t even register his own sounds. All he can hear, feel, taste, smell and see is Will. His senses all tuned in to the stunning man on top of him. Every touch and delicate word he mutters has Tom aching to be good for him. Their dicks rub together, the underwear doing very little to cloak the feeling.

“W-Want you i-inside, please sir, I-I need it,” Tom gasps, raking his nails down Will’s back. The older man pauses for a breath, letting Tom shuffle back into the sofa.  
“What was that, Tom? Can you repeat that for me?” Will asks gently, brushing any of Tom’s misplaced hair off his face. Tom feels a little embarrassed and the worst part is that he kind of enjoys that feeling despite typically hating it.

“I w-want you inside me, please sir?” Tom pleads, his breath hot and heavy yet his voice so vulnerable.  
“One day, not today. You want something else baby? Maybe my fingers?” Will offers sweetly, stroking his hands anywhere he can reach. He settles on Tom’s stomach as he must have noticed that’s an area he doesn’t like. Tom bites his lip and hums a yes, feeling a little too shy to say it out loud.

“I need words Tom, be good,” Will encourages but something in him can’t bring himself to ask for it. He wants Will’s fingers inside him but he’s never had anyone else in that area before. The idea of it is too much for his current state to comprehend. He nods again, pleading with his eyes despite his anxieties pushing the idea away.  
“Alright, let’s just keep going like this for now okay? You’re being so good for me,” Will dismisses it, clearly picking up on Tom’s split mind on the matter. Although Tom is disappointed, he’s incredibly impressed with the way Will handles it. Plus, he doesn’t register it for long as Will is reaching down into his underwear and grabbing his dick whilst his remaining hand begins twirling his hair. That’s when Tom can see Will must be getting close himself, he knows that one yank to his hair right now and it’s all over.

Tom moans when he finally feels Will’s fingers curl around his throbbing dick after what feels like hours.  
“Traffic light darling?” Will pauses until Tom can utter out a green before continuing. He must be using tricks Tom has never felt before because Tom is teetering on the edge after merely a few minutes. He stirs with the feeling, pulling his hips back to try and dislodge the intensity of it but nothing is working, Will’s intent on getting him off.

“Will- Sir I’m gonna, I-I,” Tom’s legs twist and his back arches as he clings to Will harder. Will supports his shifting body as best he can with the limited room they have. The sofa is already protesting the way they’re lying.  
“There we go, almost done. Want me to pull your pretty hair?” Will coaxes and Tom’s hands rush down to stop Will’s movements in a decision that shocks even him.  
“D-Don’t wanna,” Tom whines and he feels Will slow, waiting for his colour. Tom debates over it, he knows he’ll come immediately if he says green so he waits, wanting to linger on the precipice.

“Yellow,” Tom whispers, not wanting it to be over because then he doesn’t know when he’ll next get to see this side of Will.  
“Okay, it’s okay. What’s wrong Tom?” Will asks, pulling all his sexual touches away and waiting until Tom can catch his breath and explain.  
“I don’t want this to be done, don’t wanna come yet, sir,” Tom whines and Will smiles with relief above him, leaning down and kissing him.

“Well done for using your colours but what was my rule, Tom?” Will asks, quirking an eyebrow and giving him a stern look. Tom looks up and giggles, his dimples showing.  
“Come when I want, sir?” Tom repeats questioningly like a naughty schoolboy and Will kisses him gently on the lips.  
“That’s it, so let me know when or if you’re green and then you’re going to come for me like a good boy,” Will demands but his voice is still as rumbling and soothing as before.  
“Okay, green sir,” Tom replies, his body still buzzing from being on the edge of an orgasm.

Will starts up again, taking a minute to fully sink back into the mood and find his rhythm but once he does it’s spectacular. He leans entirely over Tom, muttering small phrases about how good he is and how well he’s behaving and to Tom’s surprise he finds himself crying. The way Will looks after him so gently and this completely new feeling is overwhelming and he can’t seem to control anything anymore.

“Tom, you okay love?” Will whispers but sounds like he has control of the situation. Tom’s glad he doesn’t stop and check his colour, he feels like if he doesn’t get the release his entire body and spirit is catapulting towards he might fall and shatter upon landing. Right now he feels like he’s speeding higher and higher, floating way above the ground and reaching for the burning sun. Will is steadily grinding on his thigh, a constant reminder that this is turning Will on just as much as it is Tom. Will’s markings are becoming more intense, the teeth a lot more prominent in the messy rush as Will frantically attempts to push himself over the edge.

“Y-Yeah, wanna come sir. F-Feels so good,” Tom moans, his back automatically arching every time the band of his underwear rubs on the sensitive head.  
“I know it does, I-I’m close too. Come with me, ready?” Will’s trying so hard to maintain his cool composure but by the trembling of his body and the way his eyes are rolling back, he’s about to lose it. The grunts are getting louder and Tom’s grip on Will’s shoulders is getting tighter.  
“F-Fuck, Sir, Sir please,” Tom pants desperately, his voice going high and whiney like he hates. His thighs are trembling around Will’s waist, shaking the sofa.  
“That’s it, you’re right there. F-Fuck, so good for me, so beautiful,” Will groans, his hips moving so hard it’s pushing Tom upwards.

All it takes is Will’s hand in his hair and all of a sudden everything is white, Tom feels his body clenching and his come shooting across his stomach. He reaches a high he didn’t even know was humanly possible, his body’s on fire and it’s delicious. Everything feels blank yet busy in the brightest of ways. The world freezes for both the briefest of seconds but also what feels like days. But it’s over so quickly, his body slumping and the fire simmering. A whine erupts from him when he feels wetness dripping on his stomach before he realises that Will must have come a few seconds after him. He lets his body relax, sinking deep into the sofa as he catches his breath.

“You did so good darling,” Will whispers breathily, pressing kisses all over his face and chest. Tom can only smile lazily and lie there, everything in a pleasant buzz of ‘good boy’. Will continues to skilfully bring Tom’s mind and body down, cleaning him with a wet tissue and holding him close to make sure Tom knows he’s always there. Will pets his hair and massages his clenched thighs.

“You wanna come back to me now, Tom?” Will giggles, cupping Tom’s face in his palm. Everything feels hazy but gradually he’s starting to come back to reality. Luckily Tom’s boxers survived this time and Will tucks him away quickly.  
“No, ‘m good,” Tom drawls with a dopey laugh and Will giggles. It almost echoes in Tom’s mind, the noise repeating so he can never lose it.

“Alright, take your time. Can you just shift over a bit?” Will asks hesitantly and Tom shuffles to the side, his limbs heavy and achy. He feels Will place a fleecy blanket over him before slipping in beside him. Tom curls up instinctively, his head buried in Will’s chest as Will draws circles on his back. They stay in silence, Tom just enjoying the comforting feeling of being cuddled and not having to overthink every breath. Will occasionally presses kisses to his shoulder or hums a song to help keep him focussed but mostly they unwind in each other’s company.

It’s about half an hour later when Tom wakes up (according to the clock on the mantle) and initially, he panics at the cold space in front of him until he looks up and sees Will in the adjoining kitchen cooking. Tom squints, wondering if the clock is wrong and it’s not almost midnight but the darkness outside confirms otherwise. Tom is confused until his stomach rumbles and he realises that he is actually hungry, he hopes Will is cooking something good.

He goes to get up but realises he could test out and see if their date made an impact on their relationship. Tom sneaks up on Will, his back turned as he sets out plates on the counter as softly as possible. Before Will can move Tom reaches around, his arms encasing Will’s soft hips. Will initially freezes and gasps at the sudden movement before settling into his arms. This time there’s no awkward shifts or twists, just a grin on Will’s face. Tom could scream right now but he maintains his sleepy facade so that he can stay attached to Will.

“Evening,” Tom says, his head resting on the back of Will’s shoulder since he’s not quite tall enough to reach his neck.  
“Evening, want a midnight snack?” Will strains his head behind him and asks, Tom is just thankful Will is playing along even though Tom is clinging to him and way too short to do this properly.

“What is it?” Tom asks, getting up on his tiptoes and trying to peer around Will’s gigantic shoulders. He stumbles sideward on the slippery floor, his grip on Will the only thing giving him leverage. Will watches him silently, awaiting smirk on his face. Just as Tom is almost able to see past the pan, Will is twisting around and gathering Tom up with his arms around his stomach, lifting him off the ground. Tom yelps, his hands gripping onto Will’s arms as his breath catches. Will just seems bemused, holding Tom with no struggle whatsoever.

“Pancakes, small one,” Will teases as he kisses Tom’s cheek before setting him back on the floor.  
“Rude!” Tom scoffs, brushing himself down despite him being in only his boxers but he can’t hide his flushed cheeks as he strops to the dining table in a fake grump. He sits down, conveniently in the place that allows him to watch Will finish off the cooking. The way his toned muscles move and the fact he does everything with such nonchalant ease is insanely attractive. Like some sort of domestic aphrodisiac.

Will licks two of his fingers before picking up the plates on the counter and placing them down on the table. Tom grins, his first intense sexual experience and now his nearly naked crush is cooking him midnight pancakes. Everything is going so perfectly until Tom realises that the wet splotches in the middle are squirts of the lemon juice on the counter, damn, he hates lemon. It makes things taste so sour. He stares at it for a second, debating whether to speak up since Will was nice enough to already prepare a pancake for him before he even woke up. Plus he’s pretty sure he would have seen Will put it on had he not been admiring his body so really it’s entirely his own fault.

“You don’t like the lemon,” Will says matter-of-factly with a mouth half full and a gesture of his fork and Tom freezes. For a brief second, he wonders if he accidentally said something out loud. He shakes his head, ready to apologise but the words don’t make it out of his mouth.  
“My bad, it’s automatic. I’ll make you another one, pan’s still hot,” Will says casually around the final mouthful of pancake he has in. In one quick swipe, Will drags Tom’s pancake off the plate with his fork, folding it up and chewing as he sets the kitchen back up. Tom feels guilty but the way Will treats it as if it is his mistake is making him feel a little better about it.

“I’ll make it, it’s fine,” Tom says but Will turns around from the pan, pointing a spatula at him.  
“You will not, what do you want on it?” Will asks, already placing another premade pancake in the pan.  
“Sugar please, but only when it’s done,” Tom requests and Will hums as he flips the pancake, catching it with ease whilst finishing off Tom’s old one. How can one man be so ridiculously perfect?

Once it’s done he transfers it to a plate and Tom gets up to supervise the sugar. Will side-eyes him in a way he must think appears subtle but doesn't at all whilst lightly sprinkling a dusting all over and then he picks up the plate.  
“Woah, woah, hold on. What is that?” Tom gasps, pointing towards the pancake and Will looks mildly offended, staring between Tom and the plate.

“You asked for sugar?” Will states, looking down at the pancake for longer as if he’s trying to calculate what he did wrong. Tom is baffled that Will thinks _that_ constitutes sugar, it will be drowned out by the pancake within seconds and that’s only if it isn’t already. Tom wordlessly picks up the sugar pot and pours it straight from the jar in a line down the middle of the circle, Will just holds the plate in his hand, expression morphing into one of slight disgust.

“That’s better, thank you,” Tom comments sweetly as he carries his plate to the table and unflinchingly takes a bit into the sugary mess. Will is left dumbfounded, stood in the same spot.  
“What is that?” Will mutters to himself and Tom smirks, eyeing him directly as he takes the next bite purposely to tease him. Will cringes as he sits down slowly opposite, studying Tom like he’s some sort of wild creature.  
“How do you even...” Will trails off, his eyes trained forwards. Tom takes great pleasure in the fascination Will seems to have with his pancake topping.  
“It’s good, you should try it,” Tom says offhandedly, purely for the reaction he knows it will evoke. He’s never seen Will this passionate about anything before, it’s insanely adorable.

“That’s gotta be ninety percent sugar right?” Will questions curiously and Tom shrugs.  
“Probably,” he studies it before taking his final two bites.  
“Incredible,” Will whispers, taking Tom’s plate yet Tom can almost see his mind whirling.  
“I’ve never seen you act like this before. You’re usually so composed and quiet, I like it,” Tom compliments, licking the excess sugar off his hands.  
“I just watched you eat pure sugar, of course I’m going to be mildly shocked,” Will scoffs, ditching the plates by the sink, “but if that’s what you like then,” Will adds, shrugging and turning back to Tom. It’s sweet that he adds it, almost like he’s validating Tom’s choices no matter how gross he thinks they might be.

“We should probably go to bed, need any more cream? Are you feeling okay after earlier?” Will asks, turning to examine Tom's expression.  
“It's clearing up now, " Tom says, seeing it's tinting towards pink, "ever thought you could do all that dom stuff,” Tom says, stretching his neck from side to side before wincing when the bruises make themselves known.  
“Well, I’ve had my practice,” Will comments, turning into his bedroom and raising an eyebrow at Tom before he heads to the bathroom. Tom cleans up and tries not to think about Will dominating other people, of course, he fails but it was the attempt that counts. As he washes his face he notices that his neck is the same red and bruised mess as it was last time. Tom smirks, running his finger over them.

“Should I go sleep downstairs or?” Tom stands in the doorway clean and mostly naked, his arms curled inwards to cover the areas he doesn’t like. He hates to ask as it's not what he wants to do but he refuses to cling to Will and become too obsessive. Plus the room has a bit of a weird odour to it and it’s strangely cold. Will initially looks a little hurt but it’s not for long.  
“If you want to, yeah. But take one of my jumpers, you look cold,” Will mumbles, pointing towards an overflowing draw.

Tom wanders over to it hesitantly, bending down and deciding which one to take. He settles on a chunky knitted light cream jumper, it’s styled to be a little oversized so he figures it should keep him warm enough. What he isn’t factoring in is that when he puts it on, it drowns him due to the fact Will is a lot broader, taller and bigger than him.

Tom stands up, the sleeves hanging dramatically over his hands and the rim of the jumper grazing his mid-thigh. The neckline droops down slightly to the left, his collarbone just about peeking through. Tom cringes, he must look awful. The holes by the sleeves are clearly from general wear and tear or styled that way however Tom thinks it makes him look like he rolled out of a fight after filming a John Lewis Christmas advert. He turns around awkwardly and as he expects, Will is staring at him, his eyes scanning the scene. But a slow smile works its way onto his face.

“You look beautiful,” Will says quietly with an expression of love and care that Tom hasn’t ever seen on him before.  
“I-I mean it’s way too big on me, I know,” Tom says, looking down and toying with the hem. Will gets up, his eyes dazed as he walks towards Tom.

That’s when Tom can pinpoint the smell, it’s the smoke buzzing around him. He glances towards the bedside table and sees a flicker of a lit joint. Will gently kisses his lips delicately, rubbing their noses together afterwards. Then he begins on his cheeks, Will’s lips brushing just below his cheekbone. He cradles Tom’s head, inching it to the side and kissing his neck. Tom giggles, Will's nose pressed into the sensitive gap between Tom’s shoulder and neck. The air makes him squirm.

“I got a bit carried away with the bites. Sorry,” Will apologises and Tom runs a hand through Will's hair, the soft strands grounding him.  
“It’s okay, I like it,” Tom responds, “can I have some of your weed?” He asks. Will looks up immediately with his wide, dark eyes and glossy lips, turning back to the joint.  
“Ah shit... I-I shouldn’t have done that without checking. Sorry,” Will says and Tom shakes his head, cupping Will’s face.  
“I’m an adult, Will, you don’t need to check,” Tom scoffs, kissing him and Will debates the idea before grabbing the spliff and passing it over.

“It’s a bit strong, helps me sleep,” Will says as Tom takes a hit and wow, yeah that's an underestimation. He splutters a little before exhaling, the smoke drifting between them. Once it’s settled though, the effect is quite amazing.  
“Good?” Will asks and Tom nods.  
“Yeah,” he giggles, handing back the joint to be put on the ashtray and placing his arms around Will’s shoulders.

“Now where was I? Oh yes, right here,” Will smiles as he kisses along Tom’s exposed collarbone. Before Tom can relax into the feeling, Will’s hands are on the back of his thighs and pulling him up into Will's arms. It’s still just as hot as the first time.  
“Mmm, baby,” Will hums, holding Tom tight and leading them to his bed.  
“I want to sleep here with you,” Tom says as they land on the mattress, Will still caressing every part of him.  
“Whatever Tom wants, Tom gets. You're my only weakness,” Will whispers, holding Tom flush to his body. That’s how he falls asleep, in Will’s bed with his lips and hands soothing him and the smoke being passed between them.

Tom wakes up and for once Will is there which is mildly shocking as Will never seems to stay in one place for long. His eyes flutter open to see Will awake with a hint of a smile on his lips. He must have just woken up, his eyes still dazed and tired.

“I don’t think that was how a typical first date was supposed to go,” Tom jokes, yawning and reaching out for Will’s comfort. Will slips an arm on his hip,  
“I think things go better when we don’t try to be typical.” Tom barely hears it, he’s still trying to register how Will looks so good in the morning. He must look atrocious, his hair greasy and stuck in lumps and spikes. But Will looks exactly like he did last night, hair in a quiff, skin glowing, dimples showing and oh-.

“You’re... hard,” Tom says upon Will shifting and brushing his thigh with his crotch.  
“Am I?” Will says, reaching down and fumbling to find out, “I... am, sorry. Must be a routine,” Will shakes his head, hint of a laugh in his throat but he seems too embarrassed to laugh.  
“It’s okay, want to carry on from last night?” Tom sneaks closer and goes out on a limb, hoping his boldness can get Will on top of him again. He’s decided that his new favourite place to be is under Will.

“As much as I want to, I’ve got work,” Will sighs, dragging his hand through his hair while giving Tom a quick kiss on his forehead. He gets up, lazily grabbing his folded uniform from the top of the draws and mentioning he’s going to shower. Tom’s a little disappointed they can’t do anything else but he needs to remember that Will does have a life outside of him, despite their constant texting recently suggesting otherwise.

Tom gets up, yet again finding his clothes neatly placed by the bed. Will must have collected them when he fell asleep on the sofa. He begins to get dressed, the room still in a slight haze due to the weed smoke. He perches on the edge of the bed as he buttons up his shirt. He knows he’ll get some dodgy looks on the tube home, neck destroyed and still in what is very clearly a date suit.

He chances a look outside, seems like it’s going to be freezing too. He side-eyes Will’s jumper as he picks it up to fold it, the thought of taking something of Will’s home is comforting yet a little intense. He still holds it close, Will’s scent buried in-between its fibres, before placing it back. Tom goes downstairs to make breakfast, passing the bathroom, but before he can get there he hears the jolt of the water cutting off and Will’s muffled singing becoming clearer.

[ _So move me, baby,_ ](https://youtu.be/8iOOu-Qsyns)  
_Shake like the bough of a willow tree,_  
_You do it naturally,_  
_Move me, baby._

Tom feels like his feet are rooted to the floor. He’s heard Will sing for a couple of hours before but nothing ever sounded like this. The rawness, the strength and the power of his voice is truly astonishing. It echoes so perfectly, it almost sounds like a prayer being sung in a church. Tom presses his head towards the wall, hoping Will continues as he can hear the rustling of his clothes being put on. Tom realises it would be weird to be caught out here but he needs to hear every breath of this, he’s drawn to it.

He doesn’t recognise the song but from his limited knowledge of Will’s writing, he can detect it’s not one of his. Will doesn't use fancy metaphors or big harmonies very often and he certainly doesn’t comprise a song of them like this one is. Tom knows Will calls it flowery, says it’s too detailed because they’ve had that debate over text. Now Tom knows how perfectly the songs suit him, he wonders why Will hates it.

_Move like grey skies,_  
_Move like a bird of paradise,_  
_Move like a odd sight come out at night._

With the last note, Will extends it so far beyond the track and Tom has to place his hand on the wall just to keep him stable. Will has the tone and stability of an opera singer with the rasp of a rock singer and the softness of an indie acoustic songwriter. All of those skills at once combined make him one of the most incredible singers Tom has ever heard. He strains to listen to every beat until Will cuts off mid-note. He must have gotten dressed as he clears his throat and his voice returns to normal. Tom begins to walk away hastily until he hears something.

“Alexa, pause playlist,” Will mutters, the door rattling as Will places his towel back on the hook. It’s what follows from his Echo that makes Tom freeze in his tracks.  
“Okay, pausing Tom Blake playlist.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys know I love my dramatic chapter endings! I hope this gave everyone some peace as Will and Tom get to reconnect properly with lots of fluff!
> 
> Thank you for all the support, the comments especially. I don't really ever believe in myself so it's great to hear! Not that anyone here cares but I wrote a poem inspired by 1917 and entered it into a competition and now it's longlisted to win £10,000, who knew writing fics would one day lead to that!
> 
> Any kudos, comments and subscriptions are greatly appreciated! See you next week :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda fucked up a little on the last chapter, I called Alexa, Siri by mistake! I'm so sorry, I've changed it now so hopefully it isn't too big of an issue! This chapter is late because I've been stressing a lot about plotholes and errors, it's not as ruthlessly planned as my other works but people seem to enjoy this fic so I'll continue to try my best to entertain you all!
> 
> This is part 1 of a 2 part chapter!

Tom doesn’t have time to process that Will was listening to a personal playlist he created about _Tom_ as the door opens and a freshly showered Will emerges. The steam pours out around him, surrounding him in an ethereal glow due to the morning sun following the mist. His hair is still fluffy and Tom desperately wants to run his hands through it but Will’s already shaped it into his signature look. He still has one hand hooked around the door frame, his arm stretched.

“Hey, if you want you can start on breakfast. I’ll be down in a minute,” Will smiles as if nothing happened, Tom slowly nods and watches Will walk away. He strides with ease, no hint of knowing Tom heard anything or if he knows, no hint of caring. Tom makes his way down the stairs, immediately trying to figure out how he can see that playlist. He would never snoop on Will’s private possessions or mislead him in any way, so apart from outright asking, he can’t figure out a guilt-free way. He contemplates it as he stands in the kitchen, palms wrapped around the back of a wooden chair.

He thinks about how he creates playlists and figures maybe he can put the song Will was singing on and then the recommendations for that song might lead him along. That’s how he discovers music, but there would be no way to ever tell if he was right or if that’s how Will does it. His ideas are halted when he hears Will’s footsteps creak at the top of the stairs. Tom rushes to the far cupboard, facing away from the door, appearing as if he’s searching for something. He stands on his tiptoes trying to look at the top shelf, hoping his ass will distract Will.

“What’re you looking for, small one?” Will asks, walking up behind him and sneaking his arms slowly around Tom. He notices the tables have turned and Will has stolen his morning routine move but he's alright with it. It certainly works better for their height this way plus the way Will leans his chin on Tom's head makes him want to stay here forever. Even though he’s not as snuggly as Tom typically is, the arms are firm and grounding.  
“The plates,” Tom says, hoping they’re in the cupboard he’s currently underneath or there’s a danger of Will having to move. In one swift motion, the arms on his waist tighten and he is lifted to a cupboard 2 doors down.

“It’s that one, the one with the plates showing through the glass window,” Will says with a chuckle but no judgement and Tom could have shrivelled up and pruned from embarrassment at the fact that he picked the most obvious thing in the kitchen to be looking for. Instead, he shakes his head, grabbing a plate as Will regretfully takes his arms away and sets up the toaster. As he plugs it in, he checks his watch.  
“Have to be fast, running late. Do you mind if I take the toast and go? Sorry to be so rude,” Will asks, again in that same way that feels like if Tom said no he would stay eating toast for the whole day if that’s what Tom wanted. He gets a flashback to last night, _‘you’re my only weakness’_. But that’s a whole other thing to unpack and there’s no time for it now.

“No, no, go do whatever it is you do. I’ll come too so you can lock up,” Tom says, smiling sweetly as Will chucks the bread into the toaster.  
“It’s fine, if you’re not doing anything today I’ll leave the key with you. My work isn’t far, if I text you the address can you drop it off?” Will says, nervously tapping on the surface as he fidgets from foot to foot. Tom could watch him all day, everything Will does is adorable because it’s Will but this is truly special. The urgency seems to make him a lot more bouncy and less composed which Tom could admire for hours, he’s so desperate to see what Will is like when he’s less calm and under control.  
“Yeah, ‘course,” Tom says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, taking a little bit of pride in the fact that Will has no hesitation in allowing Tom free rein in his house with his key. Tom would never abuse it but it’s sweet that he trusts him.

“Alright, I gotta go. I’ll see you in a bit,” Will states as he snatches the toast, panting and haphazardly handling it due to it still being baking hot while planting a kiss on Tom’s cheek. It happens so fast that Tom is just stood in place, not quite sure what is going on.  
“Oh, and take a jumper, it’s freezing out,” Will calls from the hallway as he bites toast and wrestles with his shoes while his hands are full. Tom considers helping but he feels like that might take longer so instead he watches as Will stumbles out the door with his shoelaces undone and into the bitter air. The door shuts and Tom walks up, locking it behind Will.

The silence is immediately energetic now Will is no longer there to soak up every drop of attention Tom has. His brain is static, trying to process all the events at once. He picks up the bread, making himself a slice of toast at a much slower pace than Will. It feels wrong to be in Will’s house for long without him here. Like it’s just a stranger's empty shell, the only remnants of Will are the smiles in the frames on the wall. Tom sulkily sits down, nibbling on the toast he doesn’t really want while thinking up the lyrics of the song Will was singing. Something about moving, and he knows there was a baby in there too. He thinks maybe he should google it and that’s when he realises he hasn’t turned his phone on since their date last night.

Usually, he’d leave it on silent but he’d gotten so paranoid it would somehow switch that he’d given up and turned the whole thing off. He panics, rushing to snatch it off the table and turn it on, dropping it in crumbs due to his haste. The loud clatter of it hitting the plate doesn’t even phase him, he can’t stop dreading what will pop up. The logo has barely faded off the screen before Joe’s name is barrelling down his notifications, calls, texts and messages on every platform. Tom doesn’t even want to think how many times Joe has refreshed his ‘find my friends’ location. Select ones catch his eye and he already knows there’s no way he can read them all.

Brother: _hope date is going well turn ur phone on so i can see where u r pls_

Brother: _can u tell me if u got that??_

Brother: _??_

Brother: _tom, what did i tell u? get home early and leave him wanting more_

Brother: _tom if ur fucking i stg_

Brother: _ok this isnt a joke now its been nearly 3 hrs_

Brother: _going 2 bed, u bettr answer me soon_

Brother: _fine c u when ur home_

Brother: _goin 2 work very disappointed in u we need 2 talk when ur back_

Tom drags a hand through his hair, this isn’t good. Typically Tom would be able to laugh it off with him, Joe’s a sucker for being a good big brother so a few compliments and everything’s forgotten but ever since Tom began getting closer to Will, Joe’s been lashing out. One day when they were texting, Joe threw his phone on the bed and told him to get a job or he’d find one for him. He knows that Joe is probably just worried about Tom’s first real chance at a relationship but it’s getting to the point where he’s nervous to even speak Will’s name aloud. Tom decides it’s better to let him know he’s okay now and take the full strain of it when he gets home.

Me: _really sorry forgot to turn my phone on coming home in a bit_

It’s not much but hopefully, it will be sufficient for now. To distract himself from wondering whether Joe will hit him or kick him first, he finishes off his food and washes the plates up. He wouldn’t usually do that at his own house so he’s sure Joe would be furious he’s doing it as someone else’s but if Will was nice enough to let him stay and cook him pancakes then he deserves to at least have the washing done. That’s over too quickly to occupy his ever-changing mind though, merely half a YouTube stream in and the bowl is empty.

Tom makes his way upstairs figuring he can take his time here and then begin finding his way to Will’s work when he gets the text. He forces himself to keep to the draw he’d been allowed to look through last night. He knows Will probably wouldn’t bat an eyelid if he unloaded the whole wardrobe but he wants to earn that trust and not just assume he has it. He needs to look good, especially as he’s going to Will’s workplace but it needs to somehow match with the suit.

As he gently side-tracks black jumper after black jumper he begins to wonder if Will wears anything that isn’t plain until eventually, he digs up a knitted jumper covered in an Aztec print. It’s mainly black but it has flashes of red and even leather elbow patches. He thinks it’s a little out there for Will but it’s definitely more his style so he eagerly throws it on and makes his way to Will’s full-length mirror. After a few adjustments he decides it looks decent, the sleeves are way too long on him but the middle hits his waist just right. It’s his size which is a welcome from the swamping the rest of the jumpers would do. He’s debating whether to roll the sleeves up when he gets a text.

Will: _Erinmore’s music shop, just past the flower shop. Closest tube is Camden Town x_

It makes a lot of sense why Will works in a music shop given he’s incredible with guitars. Tom is intrigued but he doesn’t want to seem too pushy so he waits it out. He lays back on Will’s bed, thinking of nice things he can do for Will while he’s bored. He doesn’t want to touch any of his belongings despite the place long overdue a quick tidy. Then it occurs to him, Will struggles with sleeping so he decides to trial an idea with Will’s gadgets.

“Alexa set a reminder,” He shouts, unsure of where Will has placed it in the house.  
“What’s the reminder for?” the robotic voice responds.  
“That... Tom thinks Will is a beautiful man and hopes he sleeps well,” Tom responds, satisfied smile on his face as he looks around Will’s bedside table for his water and notices he put it next to nail polish.  
“Okay, when should I remind you?” the voice asks and Tom has to think fast at what time to set it for. He wants Will to be awake but not too far awake. He tends to get his texts up until about one or two in the morning so he figures eleven-thirty might be a nice time.  
“Tonight at eleven thirty pm,” Tom responds, feeling hopeful that he makes Will smile and doesn’t scare him half to death.

He twirls the bottle even though he’s never wanted to paint his nails before. He thinks about Will with black nails and a longing in his stomach grows, he figures he’ll ask about it later but it’s probably just for the stage. Tom decides he’s bored and it’s still way too early to leave the house. He’s texted everyone back and nothing interesting is happening. He decides maybe he should shower, his hair is still the same mess it was last night so he strips off his outfit and gets in. The water calms his racing mind a little.

“Alexa play music,” he says without a thought as the music starts up. There are a few songs he has a careful dance to however it’s only once he’s out, dressed and doing his hair that he realises he’s been listening to Will’s playlist... Will’s _Tom_ playlist and not his own.  
“Alexa, stop!” Tom exclaims, gripping the sink in panic. Oh shit, he’s fucked this up now. That’s when it occurs to him that the only way Tom could know if Will even has an Echo is if he was listening to him in the shower. Now not only has he set a reminder, he’s also streamed a playlist named after him from Will’s account that he’s not supposed to know about. Tom is well and truly fucked. He grabs his bags and the keys, practically running out of the house even though it won’t undo anything he’s stupidly done. He really needs to think more, but for now, the best he can do is drop the keys off and hope Will forgives him.

As Will said, it’s not even half an hour from his house and Tom finds himself at a loss for what to do. It’s not even lunchtime yet and Will’s shift must have barely started. He decides that he needs to stop overthinking and just give Will the key back. He walks down the road, vibrant shops on both sides of the street. If he hadn’t had to drag a drunk Joe off these streets at three in the morning, he’d have a fond love for this place. It’s unique at least, the only place you’ll find a cybergoth store next to a vintage craft pop up shop.

He approaches the flower shop that Will had mentioned and he can definitely see why Will would know it. It’s a very sweet, almost victorian-esque place with hanging baskets and pastel pink walls. He can imagine Will browsing for a bunch to put in his kitchen, he’s probably friends with the owner too. Will seems to be friends with just about everyone. Tom steps closer to it, mostly to pass the time but also to satisfy his weird need to know anything and everything about Will.

The flowers in the window are beautifully arranged and when he looks a little closer he notices example names on the ribbon in different fonts. So _that’s_ where he got them from. He makes a note of the shop name in his phone, planning to return when Will requests a second date.

As he continues he sees the sign for Will’s place, it’s quite sleek and not what Tom expected from a music shop. It’s new, or at least the decor is, the whole place looks like it should still be dripping with fresh paint from the walls. The sign just above him is the only thing that could be considered dated, the font is swirly and written as if it were an old war letter. Tom hesitantly makes his way in, taking a moment to eye one of the guitars in the shop window. He’s always wanted to play but he doesn’t have the coordination or patience for it.

He startles at the bell that echoes when he’s inside before being a little overwhelmed by the layout, keyboards are hanging all down the walls and even though it’s a wide shop, the space is pretty full. He takes a moment to realise he’s being nervous and jumpy for no reason, he saw Will wrestle with both his shoes and toast this morning, there’s nothing scary about that human teddy bear so there can’t possibly be anything scary about his work either. He walks up to the desk, an older man sitting there next to a computer. He sits straight, his posture making it seem like there’s an invisible ruler lined against his spine. The man isn’t studying the computer, instead, he’s flicking through the neatly laid out papers spread over the keyboard. Tom stands for a moment, not wanting to be rude and interrupt the man’s thought before it gets a little awkward and he feels he has to speak up. He puts on his best charming voice and tilts his chin upwards.

“Hello, sorry to bother you, is Will around at all?” Tom asks and before anyone else can answer, Tom notices Will’s head pop around the corner of a staircase. He walks towards the desk hastily and Tom’s about to laugh at his weird behaviour however, Will speaks and it gets even more strange.  
“Ah hello Tom, we’ve got the Fender Classic Telecaster in for you if you’d like to follow me,” Will says calmly but his eyes are intense and he grits the last part through his teeth as if to say ‘just go with it’. Tom startles and scoffs before composing himself, quickly playing along.  
“Uh yeah, that’s great thanks,” Tom says, following Will down a couple of steps and into the guitar section of the store.

He looks around, it’s almost like a band’s wet dream. There are amps and electric guitars from floor to ceiling hooked on hangers, some stools for people to sit on while they test guitars and an array of straps.  
“Sorry about that, that’s the boss and he’s a little... uptight about work,” Will shrugs awkwardly and Tom notices that Will seems nervous. He wants to hug him and calm him down but instead, he hands over the key.  
“Here you go,” Tom smiles, not sure what Will’s etiquette for workplace affection is so he keeps his distance.  
“Oh thanks, I-“ Will begins to say something but is cut off by the bell on the door ringing. He checks his watch and mutters, instantly looking around the room and speed-reading all of the signs.

“Okay, Fender Telecaster, here we are,” Will mutters to himself, clicking his tongue before hooking a guitar off the wall, “just hold that for a minute,” Will instructs seconds before his boss comes to the corner.  
“I have a child here for you William, I remind you to keep your appointment schedule in order,” the man says in such a stern voice that Tom thinks he would cry if it were him. He figures he should step in and help considering Will looks like a deer in headlights.  
“Sorry to interrupt sir but my appointment was scheduled later, I shouldn’t have come in so early. I’m sure Will was just being polite in seeing me now,” Tom puts on his best snobby voice and straightens his spine subtly to match. It seems to work as Will’s boss looks impressed. Well, as impressed as a man with a very small facial expression range can appear. Tom’s reply must have given Will time to think of his answer as he speaks up.

“I can see her sir, Tom is just browsing the model. I already gave him all the information in emails,” Will says professionally but Tom nearly whimpers at the word ‘sir’ coming from Will’s mouth. He needs to disassociate that word with sex fast or he’s going to struggle. Will’s boss nods and walks off and seconds later a little girl comes running down the stairs. Tom watches in the corner, twisting the knobs on his guitar that’s hanging on his neck to appear as if he’s doing something.

“Will!” She yells as he pulls her into a hug and spins her around. It’s incredibly sweet the way Will suddenly becomes completely animated.  
“Hello Amelie, are you excited about your performance today?” Will asks, a beaming grin on his face as he rests her on his hip. She claps and giggles as he walks her over and picks up a tiny acoustic guitar in pink.  
“Here you go, do you want to try it out?” Will asks and she nods shyly, he places her down and grabs a stool from the corner. She sits on it, her little legs dangling and guitar nearly covering her whole top half despite how tiny it had looked in Will’s hands. She sets herself up, shifting and putting his fingers on the long part but looks over at Tom. Will sees her hesitation and follows her eye line.

“Don’t worry about him, that’s my friend Tom. He’s just looking at a guitar. Say hello Tom,” Will comforts her, rubbing her back and Tom waves. He’s never been brilliant with kids but he finds them sweet anyway. Will is delighted when she shyly waves back and gets over her nervousness enough to start the song. It’s no Ed Sheeran but she’s clearly had lessons, her lips are miming numbers as she stoically moves to each chord. As sweet as it is, it’s Will that Tom is more intrigued in. He’s crouched next to her, gently tuning the guitar as she plays and muttering encouragements. He’s a complete natural around her, knowing exactly what to say when she trips up or makes the wrong chord. She plays for a few minutes before looking up at her mum. Will does too.

“Are you happy with it darling?” she asks her daughter who nods, her wild blonde curls bobbing with the motion.  
“Okay, we’ll take it. Thank you, Will,” the mum smiles and Will reaches forward to shake her hand.  
“Thank you, Lauri, for letting me help your daughter. It’s an honour to hear her play,” Will says, smiling down at the girl and rubbing her shoulder.  
“I’ll take you to the front and our manager can help you with anything else you might need, it’s been a pleasure,” Will smiles, handing the guitar over and hugging the little girl as they make their way to the front of the store to ring up. 

Will seems pleased with himself when he returns, the smile not leaving his face even after they’ve gone. Tom knows his mind shouldn’t be heading there but all he can think about is what Will would be like with their kids. He dismisses it as quick as it came, it’s way too ridiculous but for that split second it is the most wonderful image.

“Sorry about that, Amelie has a school performance today and she’s been looking at guitars for weeks. Found the perfect pink one and it only just arrived in time,” Will explains and Tom’s heart soars at the passion Will has. He can tell he’s invested in finding the perfect fit for each person.  
“It was really cute, you can tell she loved it,” Tom compliments and Will chuckles low in his throat.  
“You’re holding that wrong, here,” Will deflects the conversation, rushing over and positioning the guitar properly in Tom’s arms.

This is dangerous territory because Tom can barely stop himself leaning forward into the comfort of Will. He smells delightful, all honey and deep earth, like an enchanted rainforest. Even though Tom knows it’s just the same shower gel he’d used this morning as well. The work uniform suits him even though it’s very unflattering, he still manages to make it look stylish. Tom drags himself to focus on the guitar as Will is adjusting the strap. He has no idea why Will is doing this but any time in his company is always going to be time well spent so Tom lets him fuss over it. Will pulls the guitar away from him to check something on the back before freezing and squinting. Tom looks down, remembering he’s wearing Will’s clothes although, with his expression, Will doesn’t seem to remember offering them.

“Y-You said I could pick a jumper right?” Tom asks nervously and Will looks up, clearly trying to conceal a laugh as he steps away. His lips are pressed together and his finger pressed along them.  
“What?” Tom rushes slightly defensively. He receives no answer even as Will struggles to contain himself enough to give him one. Tom looks down, his heart dropping at the fact that clearly, Will is mocking him. He feels a bit like he might cry.

Typically he’d get more defensive if it were anyone else, he’d get in their face and yell. But he always feels inferior to Will, always feels like he’s a little puppy annoyingly yapping at Will’s heels especially in public. Tom slips the guitar over his head and rests it on the stand next to him, he shoves the jumper off as quickly as possible and discards it on the stool.

“See you later,” Tom muffles, shrugging his blazer back on and ready to leave.  
“Tom, don’t be like that, Tom,” Will says in between his giggles, grabbing his arm.  
“Like what? Let me guess, a child,” Tom sarcastically retorts, expecting Will to deny it as he knows that’s one of Tom’s biggest insecurities  
“Well... yeah,” Will responds and Tom’s mood catapults even further downwards.  
“Fuck you, all I ever do is try to be good for you and all you ever do is mock me,” Tom snaps but quietly, fully aware Will’s boss can’t be far away. He’s angry but he’s not a complete asshole. Will seems to have considerably calmed down after that.

“If you’d let me explain-“  
“I tried but you were too busy laughing at me,” Tom cuts in, his voice wobbling despite how hard he forces it away. His body is curling in and he wants to run but he can’t because Will is giving him those self-righteous eyes making him feel like a stupid baby.  
“If you’d let me explain,” Will repeats sternly, “I was laughing because that’s not mine. It’s Ned’s and it’s supposed to be a crop top, he bought it when he got high and then wore it to a ton of gay clubs,” Will explains and suddenly it all makes sense. Tom sighs, realising he’d been too quick to judge yet again. Tom curls even further inwards, looking down to the ground and chewing his lip. Will doesn’t look angry or judgemental in any way, he looks almost like he expected it. Tom knows all he can do is admit he was quick to jump to a bad conclusion.

“I did it again,” Tom states, wondering if this might be the last time Will lets him get away with it. Each time he swears Will is going to walk out of his life and never come back. Instead, Will walks closer to him, his eyes sparkling from the laughter.  
“What? Thought the worst, had a bit of a strop and realised you were wrong?” Will says with a hint of a smile and Tom nods.  
“Yeah, sorry,” he says shyly, praying Will won’t drag this out too long.  
“Come here, it’s my fault too. I’m sorry for laughing but I promise it wasn’t at you,” Will says, pulling Tom in for a hug and kissing his head. The hug helps Tom calm down and gradually he pulls away, worried Will’s boss might find them like that. Will leads him over to the chair and slides Tom’s blazer off, pulling the jumper back on over Tom’s shirt.

“You look amazing, way better than Ned ever did,” Will smiles, holding both of Tom’s hands, his palms engulfing his fingers. Tom blushes and is about to say Will would look way better until they hear the tell-tale signs of footsteps coming closer.  
“Shit,” Will mutters, helping Tom put the guitar on fast. His boss arrives just seconds after they’d wrestled the strap under Tom’s arm.

“Everything going well?” He says suspiciously and Will resumes his professional facade.  
“Very well sir,” Will responds but his boss looks toward Tom for further comment. He wishes he didn’t, Tom’s most likely still blushing and now Will has said sir again he’s not sure what will follow out of his mouth.  
“S-Sorry I’ve been a while, I think I may have picked a guitar too advanced for me. Will tried to advise me on beginners guitars but I’m very stubborn and I insisted. I think Will was right all along, I need to stop and think a bit more,” Tom says in broken fragments as he comes up with it on the spot, hoping Will detects the undercurrent of their actual issues running through it.  
“That’s no problem, sir, it usually takes a few tries to find the correct fit. I’m glad William has been helpful,” he replies, shooting Will a glance that seems to make him smile. It must be congratulatory but Tom thinks it looks no different from any other expression the man makes.  
“I shall leave you to it, if you need any further help I shall be at the desk,” he finishes, leaving before both boys sigh with relief. Tom slumps back, leaning his chin on the guitar for a moment.

“I’m gonna go before I get you in any more trouble,” Tom chuckles, looking up at Will who seems to have a knowledgeable look on his face. Tom can tell he’s about to say something meaningful as he takes his time studying Tom’s face.

“You need to stop blaming yourself for breathing, Tom, because nobody else is blaming you for it,” Will says, cupping Tom’s face with a smile. Tom squints trying to work out what the hell that means before the bell rings and Will’s head is drawn to the front. Tom sees that as his queue to leave.  
“I’ll see you later,” Tom says, his heart longing to stay with Will despite his head knowing he can’t.

“Yeah, are you coming to the gig tonight?” Will asks and although Tom should jump at the chance to say yes, he knows he probably has some serious making up to do with Joe for ignoring him last night.  
“I want to but I should probably talk to Joe, I forgot to answer him yesterday,” Tom sighs but thankfully Will understands.  
“Text me when you get home,” Will says as Tom leaves, he can’t contain his smile at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to split it into two as it was over 9.5K and it will most likely be 10K when I'm done so the next chapter will 100% be on time!
> 
> Tumblr- mclennondreams


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated a lot on whether to put this up given the current world events but I hope that for anyone who needs a moment of escape, this chapter can provide it. It has a little glimpse of hope in it at the end too.  
> If I have been disrespectful in uploading, please let me know as I am a white person. I stand 100% with the black lives matter movement and I want to do what is best.  
> To donate, learn about and help BLM please [CLICK HERE](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/)
> 
> Hope you find some comfort in this, sorry I couldn't post a cheerier chapter <3

Tom remains in a post-Will glow, typing his text whilst he’s walking through his door. He spends the rest of his day distracting himself from wondering how angry Joe will be by playing on his Xbox. It’s been a while so he’s greeted by lots of excited messages in his streaming chat. He earns a bit less than he typically would for how many hours he’s doing but it does the job of taking his mind off things at least. That is until he shuts it off 10 minutes before Joe is scheduled to be home and suddenly he has to think up what to say.

He’s already biting his nails, nervously waiting for the door to go whilst fiddling with the cigarettes he fished out of a draw. He won’t have one, Joe would smell it on him immediately but the temptation is incredibly strong. It feels like they're taunting him, calling out for him to rely on them like he used to. Joe walks through the door five minutes late and the time it takes for him to hang his coat and take his shoes off feels like hours. Tom sits in silence, not sure how this is going to play out.

“Hey, how was wo-“ Tom is cut off immediately.  
“Oh! You’re home... nice of you to let me know- oh wait,” Joe says sarcastically, stepping forward with a finger to his lips and Tom knows he’s in for a big morals speech. He was hoping to avoid that because they’ve never ended well in the past. Joe doesn’t even waste any time, immediately launching into his anger. Tom knows he probably has had it brewing in his head all day because that’s what he does too.

“You know when I ask you to make sure you let me know where you are, I expect you to do that. Do you realise how dangerous it was to not even turn your phone on?” Joe yells, getting closer and closer to Tom. This is escalating far faster than Tom assumed it would but he can bring it back, he’s got this.  
“I got caught up in the date okay, I didn’t think and I’m sorry, but I’m an adult now. You’ve taught me all the tricks I know, I’ll be fine,” Tom says, eyes averted downwards as he plays his usual card. That seems to rile Joe up even more though as he takes a big breath and turns away momentarily. Tom hates that, it’s like that moment before a rollercoaster tips over the edge and you’re just dangling on the precipice.

“Don’t think it’s that easy, Tom. I tried to treat you like an adult, I even clapped you on the back when you lost your virginity and I only ever checked your location when it was late. I left you to deal with your shit but you dragged me in asking about his emails and what his texts mean and helping you with your date. I tried to treat you like an adult and all you did was prove to me you can’t be one,” Joe rants, taking a breath and Tom can feel himself getting teary already. The shouting makes his body erupt in goosebumps and all he wants to do is cover his ears and beg Joe to just leave it but he can’t, he has to prove he’s got this under control.

“I can be an adult, I just get nervous okay? Who’s fault is that?” Tom fights back, standing up and pushing down his quivering lip. As soon as it leaves his lips he knows he’s fucked up by blaming Joe. He’ll be reaping the effects of that for a while for sure.  
“Okay, _adult_. What was the first thing I told you to do? Not get swept up in everything and make rash decisions and look how that turned out. Try and blame that one on me,” Joe backhands Tom’s chest, shaking his head in disappointment before collecting himself. Tom knows this is where the guilt trip comes in, when he realises he’s yelled too much and he needs to justify it.

“I just want you to be safe, Tom. I worked so hard to always keep you safe no matter what happened and you won’t listen to me. I treat you like an adult, it doesn’t work. I treat you like a kid and you protest me all the way, what am I supposed to do?” Joe sighs, dragging his hands through his hair. It works, Tom feels horrible, he knows he never makes life easy for Joe. No job, no ambitions, constantly clinging to him for everything but if he had another choice he’d pick it.  
“I know that and I’m sorry. But I promise this situation is different, Will is different, he looks out for me because he knows I can be childish just like you do,” Tom says and he sees Joe smile a little bit at that. This is good, Tom can bring this down from here and make it up to him.

“And what did I tell you was the first rule of dating? Don’t put out on the first date,” Joe exasperates, placing one hand on his hip. Tom smiles at that, Joe is still a little old fashioned.  
“I know, but he gave me great aftercare and he was really-.” Joe freezes at that, his whole body changing. Tom looks up immediately, he knows he’s said something wrong but he prays Joe confirms what it is so he can explain it away.

“Aftercare?!" Ah okay, "Tom, what the fuck did you do with him?” Joe’s anger returns in a split second, his teeth clenched and his hands bolting into fists. Tom panics, his entire self-confidence crumbling when Joe makes such a big deal out of it. Tom defaults to getting defensive, panicking about what Joe might say if he finds out Tom didn’t wholly know it was that weird to do that on a first date.  
“Sex, Joe, you know. Like adults,” Tom retorts although it would have more punch if he didn’t sound like a kid asking for his lunch back from the school bully.

“It was a first date Tom, and he was what? Tying you up? Blindfolding you? Do you have _any_ idea how serious this is?” Joe asks and Tom begins to panic, the feeling clawing its way up his throat. He thought he knew but this feels like a complete overreaction so maybe he doesn’t.  
“Stop it! It was nothing Joe stop acting like I’m a baby who doesn’t know what he wants,” Tom says, mostly to solidify to himself that Joe is wrong.

“Stop what, Tom? I’m protecting you, this creep is taking advantage of you. Did he rape you?” Joe yells and Tom pulls away at the mention of that word, especially in relation to Will.  
“No?! Is that seriously your first fuckin’ thought? Not that I’m a fuckin’ adult that can decide what he wants but that I must have been assaulted because there’s no way I could know my own mind?” Tom genuinely is annoyed now. How dare he even mention something as serious as that. He knows Joe is being protective and refusing to see Tom as an adult but being treated like this is exactly why he’s in this mess in the first place. Why he can’t even decide his side on an argument that is about him.

“You lost your virginity like... what, a month ago? And the second time you’re ever having sex, you have to have fuckin' BDSM aftercare shit? Get your coat on, we’re going to find this guy,” Joe storms towards the door, not even pausing for breath.  
“No, Joe. This was what I wanted. I made the choice and I’m sick of you acting like this, I knew you would,” Tom’s raising his voice properly now, he’s sure the neighbours will get a good show if nothing else. His voice is straining and his throat is sore but he has to make his point because he’s tired of this.

“I’m protecting you, Tom, you are naive, you are inexperienced and I will not sit back and let you do things you will regret.”  
“I am a fucking adult and it’s about time you realised that I don’t need protecting anymore.”  
“Tom you’re fucking crying!” Joe scoffs and that just makes it worse, “you never grew up, never got a job, never looked after yourself. You can’t even live on your own for fucks sake.” Joe grits through his teeth, his face turning red. Tom’s anger is burning hot now, the rage singeing every fibre in him. He can’t control his words anymore.

“I’m sick of this,” Tom spits under his breath.  
“Sick of what?” Joe sarcastically responds with an eye roll.  
“Sick of you, I hate you,” Tom snarls, staring straight into Joe’s eyes just to watch the pleasure of thinking he’s right drain slowly from him. Joe’s face drops but there’s a flicker of knowing in his eyes, like he knew that was coming. Tom reaches around, grabs his keys and coat and leaves without so much as a glance back. He knows it’s childish to slam the door but it seems appropriate.

Tom storms around in the rain, going nowhere in particular but he just needs to clear his head. He goes over and over Joe’s words, getting both more angry and more upset until he’s practically screaming and sobbing at the same time as he stomps down deserted streets. Everything hurts and his body is trembling under the unrelenting pour. He slumps to the floor, curling up and trying to pull himself back together. That’s the first adult fight he’s had regarding himself.

It used to be the other way around, Tom yelling at Joe for never coming home and staying up all night. But Joe’s always been responsible so Tom could never stay angry at him for long. Tom can’t help but hate himself, he knows hating him is all Joe’s doing right now anyway. He grew up seeing Joe being all perfect and mature even when he partied relentlessly. He could be throwing up on the empty street but if he had to be at work two hours later you can guarantee he would be. All Tom could do was sit and be miserable and lonely, that’s all he’s ever been good at.

Now he’s fucked everything up because deep down he knows most of it was right. He can’t be an adult, but that’s because Joe never let him. He’s not allowed to make any mistakes for himself, he has to walk around in bubble wrap while everyone else gets to learn how to grow up. Tom debates on it until he’s freezing, the pain of the cold eventually putting a pause on his overthinking.

That’s when it occurs to him that he has nowhere to go. He refuses to go back to the flat right now even though he’s sure Joe won’t be there, he’ll have left for the bar the moment Tom was out of the building. The only other option is the one he desperately doesn’t want to pick. Turning up on Will’s door unexpected after running away is exactly the kind of pathetic, childish behaviour that Will is sure to hate and Joe warned him about doing but Tom can’t stay out here all night so he begins the trek there. Halfway, he realises that Will’s at his gig tonight so he probably won’t be home until late. He cries a bit, his stupid recklessness won over again but he heads there anyway, hoping that it won’t be long until Will’s home. He reaches in his pocket to call an uber before realising he left all his stuff behind. At this point he doesn’t have anything more that could go wrong so he figures whatever happens or wherever he ends up, at least it will be over tomorrow.

Tom’s surprised to find Will waiting for him when he approaches, the door already opening before Tom can get close to the house. The sight makes him feel a little dizzy with a want to be comforted. The warm glow is blurred in the rain but he stumbles towards it. He feels when he steps over the threshold, even if he can’t quite see it properly yet. The warmth of Will’s place does little to change his current state but it does allow him to breathe easier.

“There you are, fuck. I’ve been so worried,” Will says, taking him inside and immediately dragging most of his soaking layers off. Tom stands there in his shirt and jeans as Will wraps a towel around his shoulders and takes him into the living room. He probably looks like a drowned rat but that’s the last of his current worries. He wants to apologise for turning up but Will was waiting for him somehow so it’d be useless anyway. How is that possible, is he really just that predictable? Silently, Tom wipes his face with the corner of the towel and cuddles into Will’s side. Will seems satisfied Tom is there and that’s the main thing, fussing over his trembling hands and dripping wet hair. He squeezes the water out from Tom’s curls, guiding it onto the fabric below.

“How did you know I was coming?” Tom speaks finally, his voice quiet and stuttering as his body is still shaking a little.  
“I got home early because the bar is flooded so we can’t play. There was a plastic bag on my doorstep.” Will reaches behind him and hands Tom a note. It’s a little wet and it’s been hastily ripped from a book of some sort as the edges are frayed. Will helps his quivering fingers unfold it from where they peak out beneath the towel and he instantly recognises the handwriting. His stomach fills with dread at what could be on that note, especially with what Joe had accused Will of earlier. Tom looks up at Will before he reads it, checking his expression for any signs of anger or hurt. He looks content, a hint of a smile there as he coaxes Tom to read it by shifting it a little closer to him. Tom takes a breath and begins.

‘Will,  
I hope this is your place, it seems to be the only location Tom spends the night so I’m assuming it is. Tom left his bag and phone at home so please give them to him when he gets to yours tonight as I have no doubt he will. Also please look after him, he’ll hate me for this note but he assured me you know how he can be so make sure he’s safe because he's all I have. If you could tell me when he gets there, that would be great. Here’s my number.

Thanks,  
Joe (his brother)  
P.S. Tommy, if you find this, I’ll see you tomorrow and I love you. I’m sorry for not listening to you'

Tom rereads the note a few times, all the emotion he’d quietened on the walk over comes bursting back. First, he’s angry that Joe could still treat him like a kid after all that had happened. Then he’s sad that Joe even felt he had to do that and by the final time he doesn’t even know anymore. He passes it back to Will who folds it neatly and places it on the table.  
“Can I text him, tell him you’re okay here?” Will asks hesitantly as if it’s a dangerous topic with his phone in hand and Tom can’t do much more than nod.

They lie there for a while, Tom just trying to tame his mind and Will gently stroking his hair. Occasionally Tom will realise how horrible something he said was and he’ll mutter it aloud in disbelief. Will meets it with some kind of soothing comment and Tom can squash his self-hatred long enough to move on to another bit.

“I told him I hate him and I’m sick of him,” Tom whispers, the tears starting to reappear again. Will sighs at that, pulling him closer and that’s how Tom knows it’s bad.  
“He knows you don’t mean it,” Will comforts, pressing a kiss to Tom’s forehead but it does little to help him.  
“I just got so tired of him treating me like a child, I don’t want to be a child anymore,” Tom justifies, wracking sobs gradually filling his body. It starts at his stomach, then his throat and before he knows it his whole body is quaking. He knows his words and his actions are contradictory but he can’t bring himself to care.

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s okay. In his eyes, you will always be the incapable baby brother. That’s the way big brothers are but you’ll sort it out, I promise. Ned and I fight about this all the time,” Will says, holding him close and wiping the tears away with his thumb. Tom can’t even enjoy the fact that Will opened up about his family, much less reply as his throat is clogged and his brain scattered. He cries for a bit longer before Will must realise leaving him to think on it will only make everything more dramatic.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Will suggests, scooping Tom up and carrying him upstairs. Even though it must look pathetic, it’s what Tom needs.  
“Now I’m being a real baby,” Tom scoffs, hoping that Will can squash that thought with his kind words too. Will is knelt by the tub, running him a bath and by the steam drifting off the surface of the water, he must want to heat Tom up a bit.  
“Everyone needs looking after sometimes, especially after a hard family fight. That doesn’t make you a baby, that makes you human,” Will says, ruffling Tom’s hair and kissing it before he leaves the bathroom, presumably to find Tom some clothes that aren’t soaked.

Tom takes his remaining clothes off and gets in the bath, it’s soothing if nothing else and it’s certainly warming him up. A few minutes later Will knocks.  
“Come in.”  
Will is holding a bundle of items in his hands and his face is red, he pants when he speaks so he must have been rushing around quite a bit.

“Got you some clothes, I found these that I thought you might like,” Will holds up a pair of glittery black jogging bottoms and a completely battered t-shirt that says ‘eat, sleep, music’ and Tom smiles, the first genuine laugh in hours comes from his throat. Will must have trailed deep into his draws to find items that he wouldn’t be seen dead in and Tom wishes he could say something better than ‘thank you’ but he can’t, not yet.  
“I love them, thank you,” Tom laughs, feeling the heaviness lift off him already. They both share a look that means ‘I know what you want to say’ but even Tom knows he can’t do that. Tom finishes washing and gets out, his nose and throat (and almost his head) a lot clearer.

He finds Will in the bedroom, but what he isn’t expecting is the layout Will is creating. There’s a beanie hot water bottle on his bed, two glasses of water and some tissues on the nightstand. Will’s Echo is in the corner playing some music on low and there’s a faint lavender scent in the air.

“Will, you didn’t have to do all this.” Tom’s lip goes wobbly for a different reason and Will puts his arms around Tom’s waist. He kisses him softly, pouring all his affection into it.  
“Come on, get in,” Will says excitedly, holding the duvet up as Tom shuffles inside. Will comes in after him and Tom snatches the water bottle off the bedsheets, cuddling it to his chest. It’s also where the lavender smell is coming from apparently. He buries his nose in the fabric, trying to let the smell relax him. Tom curls up, tangling himself with Will so he can’t feel the invisible weight pushing on his chest. He lies there quietly until his brain tunes in to the music.

“This is the song you were singing when I came downstairs after our first night together,” Tom says, pleased that he even managed to remember it. Will looks impressed too, his eyebrows raising.  
“Yeah, [Wayfaring Stranger](https://youtu.be/fp7mdSMNQB0). It’s on the playlist named after you that you listened to when I was at work,” Will smiles slyly and Tom squeezes his eyes shut, he’d completely forgotten about all that.  
“Sorry, I heard your echo thing talking this morning before breakfast and I wanted some music in the shower,” Tom says, expecting a reaction but nothing happens.

“You don’t have to apologise, if anything it should be me. I panicked when I got the music player notification. I thought you’d find it creepy,” Will admits, brushing Tom’s hair back loosely to the timing of the song.  
“I think it’s sweet,” Tom says, leaning up and kissing Will.

“Will you tell me why you put each song on there?” Tom asks as the first song fades out and Will smiles, shaking his head and leaning back on the cushion.  
“That would be awful and embarrassing,” Will says and Tom cups his face to stop him from looking down.  
“Please?” Tom asks with his pout and pleading eyes and Will goes to protest before giving in.  
“Alright, this one is the song that was playing when I got your first text,” Will says quietly and Tom thinks his heart might melt a little bit. He kisses Will’s flushed cheek as Will toys with the edge of Tom’s sleeve.  
“That’s beautiful,” Tom whispers, listening to the lyrics and acoustic guitar that are drifting around the room.

[ _She's got a smile that it seems to me,_ ](https://youtu.be/Zdh2hot8rjU)  
_Reminds me of childhood memories,_  
_Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky._

Tom grins as Will sings along quietly, humming when the real note is belted but he doesn’t want to sing too loud. Tom presses his ear to Will’s chest, hearing the muffled rumble. The fact that Will has documented their short time so far in a playlist of songs almost seems like it’s out of a romantic novel. Even though his heart is still heavy with remembrance for the earlier events, things get clearer the more he hears Will sing.

“This one is the song you said you were dancing to one night and I said you were crazy for dancing at midnight so you sent me that, uh, gif thing of a cat raving,” Will stifles a laugh and Tom bursts into giggles, he remembers how confused Will was when he received that text and Tom couldn’t believe Will had never had a whole night dancing by himself. He can remember sending the gif as the chorus hit.

[ _If she likes it 'cause we just don't eat,_ ](https://youtu.be/VqlPTEcYVYM)  
_And we're so intelligent, she's American._

Tom sings along to this one and Will looks at him with fond eyes, watching as Tom dances as best he can whilst staying cuddled up next to Will. Tom goes to shy away when he catches Will chuckling but Will encourages him to keep going, the hands on his moving hips gently stroking in time to the song. Tom becomes a little more confident, leaning up and moving his shoulders too.  
“You’re so cute,” Will whispers at the end of the song, Tom a little out of breath from his attempt at bedtime jamming. Tom’s about to reply when a song bursts through the speakers and makes them jump.

“Jesus, what’s this?” Tom asks and Will pauses to listen, cocking his head to the side before a smile graces his face.  
“Oh, I forgot about this one. Someone in the crowd of a show had a shirt with this guy on it... wait, sorry, I mean person. Well, I don’t actually know what uh, gender they are so... anyway I looked them up and something about them reminded me of you. They just seem like a wilder version of you, I don’t know. Want me to skip it?” Will stumbles through the explanation and Tom admires him trying to figure out what words to use when he clearly has no idea who this singer is. He knows Will would never be hateful towards anyone but to have it confirmed is another reason Tom adds to the list of why he will eventually say those three words to him. Will reaches for his phone and Tom puts a hand out to stop him.

“No, no, I kinda like it,” Tom says, and for once it’s not just because Will likes it or because Will thinks of Tom when he hears it. It’s a lot more Tom’s taste than Will’s. It’s loud, fun and a little bit chavvy but that’s the charm of it.

[ _Come hold my hand,_ ](https://youtu.be/NIWALAgvz2U)  
_Hold it tight,_  
_We're in a weird time of life._

Tom thinks he’s heard it somewhere before but he can’t have been listening otherwise he probably would have taken note of it. Tom stays quiet, politely shushing Will every time he tries to speak as the song plays out. When it fades, Will looks down to see Tom’s reaction.  
“You like that one then?” he smiles, pressing a bunch of kisses slowly over Tom’s face as he holds his chin.  
“Yeah, they’re pretty good,” Tom says, giggling as Will kisses his lips quickly over and over.

The music takes a quick dip into a lower tone and Will stiffens, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.  
“Oh... this one is one that I planned to put on when we make love,” Will whispers, giggling and trailing his kisses down Tom’s neck. Tom’s eyes widen, it seems crazy to think Will thinks about doing that with him. But it also makes sense because they’ve already started to try twice. The atmosphere changes even though both boys know nothing is going to happen.  
“Make love? Didn’t realise we were in the Victorian era,” Tom teases but he can’t help shifting his hips closer anyway.

[ _When the zeros line up on the 24-hour clock,_ ](https://youtu.be/R7A1mIdiheE)  
_When you know who's calling even though the number is blocked,_  
_When you walked around your house wearing my sky blue Lacoste_  
_And your knee socks._

Tom and Will spend most of the song lazily kissing, it’s all chaste but Tom manages to get just a taste of the mint gum Will must have chewed earlier.  
“I think your sex song should be Cannibal by Ke$ha,” Tom smirks, and Will raises an eyebrow, forcing his smile down.  
“Cheeky,” Will laughs, sliding his hand up and down Tom’s side. 

They’re giggling until suddenly Will’s echo makes a noise. The music quietens and the ring of light pops up.  
“Here’s your reminder, that Tom thinks Will is a beautiful man and hopes he sleeps well,” Alexa declares and Tom face plants Will’s chest with a giggle. His face burns and every muscle in his body is cringing as hard as possible while he groans.  
“Oh god, I forgot I did that earlier fuck, that’s so embarrassing,” Tom whines as he feels his face being lifted by Will and he barely takes a breath before Will kisses him hard over and over again. He usually does this when he can’t seem to form words and Tom wonders what he could have possibly done to warrant that.

“How do you expect me to be normal around you when you’re so fucking sweet? You make it impossible,” Will says, cupping Tom’s face and stroking his cheek with his thumb. Tom blushes as he looks into Will’s eyes.  
“I-It was nothing, glad you liked it,” Tom responds barely, his breath taken by how in awe of him Will seems to be. They kiss for a while longer, forgetting about the music.

“I know it’s not the right time, you’re going through a lot but I’ve never liked anyone this much, especially after a month,” Will says, chewing his lip and letting his eyes wander around Tom’s face. It’s no doubt blotchy and red from their laughing and the tears earlier, his lips are ruined from the cold and his skins spotty but Will looks at him like he created the universe.  
“Me neither,” Tom says, feeling nervous as to where this is going. It has the tension and the build-up of a big reveal so he chases it, grasping at the chance of something real, something concrete to show himself that they aren’t just an extended one night stand anymore.

“I really, really like you. It’s not the best moment to admit it but, I do. I can’t help but want you around me all the time,” Will says and Tom’s entire body lights up. That’s as close as they can get to _those_ three words for how far along they are and Tom can’t believe that someone like Will would ever think about wanting him. Instead of trying to pretend to be cool, he smiles wide, pulling Will in for a hug.  
“I like you too, a whole lot,” Tom says into Will’s shoulder, pulling him tight.

“When Joe told me to look after you I don’t think this is what he had in mind,” Will chuckles and even though the mention of Joe should be painful, it isn’t because he knows things are going to be okay. For once, he’s not thinking the worst. He’s not imagining Joe leaving him to fend for himself suddenly or Will saying all this was a mistake. Because Will _likes_ him. Will saw his baby face and his even babier attitude and he stayed. If something as amazing as that can happen then maybe, just maybe, Tom can begin to think positively. They’ve both made mistakes but things are coming together. It took so long but Tom feels a self-confidence he’s never felt before. He knows he can’t plant it in Will because if Will leaves it will devastate him, but the fact that Will is choosing freely to want to be around Tom is a start. He squeezes Will tight and thinks maybe it’s all going to work out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like it, better days are coming but the Blake brothers have some things to work through first.
> 
> Just want to add the BLM information in again [HERE](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/)
> 
> My tumblr is mclennondreams and I'll see you next Monday.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while and is short, my editing software sucks and wouldn't let me edit. I know the world has much more important things to do than read this fic but I'll continue updating for anyone who might need it. If anyone wants me to take a pause then of course let me know.
> 
> I just want to add in a note to a wonderful friend of mine called Alice, she is the best support I could ask for and if anyone wants tiktoks with big Will, Tom, Ned and/or Joe energy then we could probably fill pages. I dedicate every chapter to her because she is just endlessly kind, supportive and an absolute genius when it comes to fics.
> 
> My tumblr-[mclennondreams](https://mclennondreams.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Links to help current causes  
> [BLM](https://t.co/GoKfxBMmKQ)  
> [LGBT Rights](https://t.co/7mNaQud2KV)  
> [Trans Rights](https://t.co/HFAcitqPBl)  
> [Yemen](https://t.co/lio7HqZbSP)

He repeats ‘it will all work out’ over and over as he stands at the door. He knows Joe isn’t going into work today because he checked his location on the way home. Tom might be mad and upset but he knows Joe would never miss a day of work for anything so he has to make it count for something. He places his clammy hand on the door, twisting the handle in his palm and pleading for the trembling to stop. His body is panicking, running itself into overdrive but he’s still got the loop of his time with Will in his head. The way Will woke him up with breakfast in bed on an intricately carved wooden tray and brought him home in an uber just so he could comfort him for as long as possible. Their hands joined as a Katy Perry song played and the gentle kiss on the cheek Will left him with. He reaches up with his free hand and brushes his fingers over the mark that lingers from Will. And his words, it’s just Joe. It’s just your brother.

He’s met by Joe’s head whipping up from where he’s perched on the end of the bed. He already knew Tom was coming no doubt. Tom sends a shy smile and places his bag down by the door. Every moment of silence blooms like a hyper-lapse of a flower, spinning and blossoming in repeat. As Tom’s fishing his keys out of his pocket, listening intently for the jingle of the metal, and wondering where he can even begin, the sofa creaks and Joe stands.

Even in Tom’s peripheral vision, he looks massive, a dark figure looming and floating towards him. Joe strides over to Tom and slowly wraps him in a hug, taking each step hesitantly as if he’s expecting to be pushed away. He must feel Tom’s heart racing but Tom reaches back, the better this goes, the easier it will be on both of their mental wellbeing’s. Joe’s arms are tight around Tom, his hands splayed open on the crests of his shoulders almost like he’s trying to hug as much of him as possible.

“We need to talk, properly this time,” Joe says while pulling away and Tom draws in a breath, one he didn’t realise he’d even been forgetting to do until his lungs rejoiced at the action.  
“We do,” he confirms, awkwardly following Joe to the sofa. Even though they’re doing this for real now, his brain is still trained to Will, as if he’s some comfort character that Tom can focus on when he’s lost.

Joe turns off the episode of Friends he’s been watching and sips his tea. Tom can tell now he’s close up that the red stains under Joe’s eyes have been put there by tears, fresh ones too. Joe places his hands in his lap and spreads his legs further open, shifting on the cushion. Joe looks at him unexpectedly, his wide, brown eyes reaching in and plucking all thoughts from Tom’s head.

“I said a lot of things I’m not proud of, and I’m sorry,” Joe says, swallowing harshly yet still somehow maintaining eye contact. Tom struggles to retain the words but his jumbled brain sorts them accordingly.  
“Me too, I should have never told you I hated you or I’m sick of you. I don’t a-and I’m not,” Tom assures, reaching over and taking Joe’s hand. That touch clearly breaks the wall Joe had been building as tears begin dripping onto his jeans again. He squeezes Tom’s hand and gives him a tearful nod, his tight throat and unwanted emotion making him unable to speak. As Joe turns away, pinching the inner corners of his eyes, Tom continues before he loses what he planned to say.

“I want to say that... I’ve been selfish. I-I just kept taking shit for granted and I shouldn’t have,” Tom says, looking down and cursing his quivering lip. That must give Joe permission to say what he wants to say as he clears his throat and turns back, eyes only partially glistening now.  
“Ever since I-I left you with mum a-and you went through all that... that, uh, t-therapy, I’ve been trying to make it up to you. I-I don’t understand what you went through but I just know I wasn’t there. I spent so long watching you grow up and then when you n-needed me most, I-I was off w-with that... that bastard,” Joe says and suddenly everything clicks into place.

In his darkest depression days, when he felt so lonely and hated himself so much, Joe had been living elsewhere in London and with his fiancé. But Tom had always understood that Joe would want to go and live his life. Then again, he always blamed himself for everything so it must be where he got it from.  
“Joe, I never blamed you for that. Mum was never around and you had to live your life. Have you been feeling guilty about that all this time?” Tom asks, already knowing the answer but when Joe nods it feels like a ton of bricks dropping. His shoulders droop and his throat clamps.

“Fuck, man. You can’t blame yourself for that, you still came and picked me up from school even though you lived on the other side of London and took me to the park by yours. You still hung out with me, it wasn’t your fault I was...” Tom trails off, not wanting to think about what it had felt like before they moved.  
“Depressed and lonely. I still remember coming home and you handing me the doctors letter, mum wasn’t even there,” Joe places his shaking hand over his mouth and Tom pulls him in, rubbing his back.

“Joe, your relationship was over, you had a depressed brother and mum was fucking... god knows where. You did the best you could,” Tom comforts and Joe shakes his head.  
“No, I brought you to the other side of London a-and I didn’t even try to understand how you were feeling. I expected you to change overnight because I was too wrapped up in my stupid relationship that I didn’t notice I was losing you and dragging you here could never change that,” Joe grits through his teeth and Tom is astounded Joe even stretches to see it that way. That’s never been the way Tom’s seen it.

“From my angle, you saved me. You came here still heartbroken and you got a job. You found us a place and you looked after me. There’s never been a moment when I’ve not seen you as my hero,” Tom says and Joe drags him in by the head, squeezing him tight. Tom can feel Joe’s body jolting from the crying and he rubs his cheek softly on Joe’s shoulder.  
“You don’t remember this but when I was a teenager and you were at school, they asked you who your favourite superhero was and you said me,” Joe smiles, his lip quivering, “I cried.” Joe breathily laughs and Tom squeezes his shoulder.  
“You still are. You’ve been my dad and my mum and my brother and my best friend since... forever,” Tom says and Joe sighs, wiping his eyes and cupping Tom’s face.

“I still think of you as that little boy running around in his underwear and refusing to get dressed,” Joe scoffs, patting Tom’s cheek, “I treat you like it too and I know now that doesn’t help. You are so much braver and kinder a-and mature than you think you are,” Joe says and Tom can’t believe these words are coming out of Joe’s mouth. It seems like a weird alternate universe.  
“You were right to treat me like a kid because I still act like one. It was easier to let the shit in my brain take over than it was to ask for help,” Tom answers honestly and Joe sighs with a sympathetic smile.

“You’ve come so far but if it’s help that you want then we’ll find it. I’m sorry for yelling and for blaming it all on your boyfriend,” Joe says and the blatant apology feels like a whole new moment in his life. Joe’s never been incredibly apologetic, if he has to it’s usually mumbled before he leaves a room or whispered between fits of tears. The sheer strength of his bold, plain apology is something Tom hasn’t felt in years. He decides to leave the fact that Will isn't even officially his boyfriend yet for another time.

“I’m sorry I blamed you for stuff that wasn’t your fault, it was only because I knew most of it was right,” Tom admits, hanging his head and trying to embrace the darkness unfurling in his stomach instead of burying it. Joe notices the old patterns creeping in and stops it.  
“Hey, you are so much better than before but... I think you need to show yourself that you can do it,” Joe says, almost like he’s steering the conversation somewhere.  
“What do you mean?” Tom asks, rubbing his wet nose and looking over at Joe.

“Look, don’t dismiss it and just listen to me for a minute, I have a friend who works at a library not far from here. He said he’d let you trial out working there for a while, just to prove to yourself that you can be the adult you are. It might even give you some confidence,” Joe offers and Tom’s immediate reaction is to shake his head but he pauses mid-way. Not only is Joe giving him the ‘do it for me eyes’ (another thing Tom definitely picked up off him), he also kind of wants to prove to himself that he can do it. Being a responsible adult with a real job. He tries not to overthink it before he says yes, he knows that too much time to debate will just allow him to fall back into the same routine. Joe looks thrilled, his eyes lighting up and a smile gracing his face. He pulls Tom in and pats his back.  
“I’m proud of you, Tommy,” Joe whispers and the lump in Tom’s throat reappears as he responds, “I’m proud of you too, Joe.”

They spend the rest of the day thinking ahead, not behind. They watch TV shows and order in junk food. Joe talks about his work and is quite alarmed when Tom’s first question is if any of the office guys are fit. Tom grimaces when Joe explains they’re mostly over 50 but if he ever wanted a sugar daddy then he’d be set. They don’t reminisce or talk about the past like they usually would and it feels like they’re understanding each other more. Tom knows who Joe sees at work and what he does all day, he never knew that before.

“So, I dread to ask but what’s going on with you and that Will guy?” Joe asks as he begins his Doritos. Tom smiles instantly at the mention of his name, it’s like a light switch turning on.  
“He’s really nice, last night he made a whole setup for me in the bedroom-“  
“Hey, woah, ew,” Joe cuts off, turning away in disgust and Tom giggles, hitting his arm.  
“Not like that! He made me a hot water bottle and he picked out these sparkly joggers for me, it was cute,” Tom mutters, his cheeks heating up at the memory of how sweet Will looked lying sleepily next to him.

“My god, you are _so_ gay,” Joe mutters in joking disbelief and Tom laughs hard at that, shaking his head and throwing a few Doritos in Joe’s hair, the dust crumbling over his forehead. Joe shakes it out in response, letting the mess cascade everywhere as Tom groans about having to hoover and change the bedsheets.

“But you’re being safe right?” Joe says, cutting through the light atmosphere and Tom immediately recoils at the mention of that. Joe can’t look him in the eye, instead, he’s looking down at the bag.  
“I just want to make sure that it’s all... consensual,” Joe hesitates, the awkwardness radiating from his voice and Tom groans as he face plants the cushion.  
“We are _not_ talking about this,” Tom insists, his voice muffled in the fabric he very much wishes he could smother himself with right now.

“I know, it’s not a walk in the park for me either but come on, you want to be an adult, you gotta go through the talk you never got,” Joe says and Tom remerges, hoping to god that this is over as fast as possible. Joe looks like he wasn’t expecting that to work, he’s stuttering over his words before he finally lands on his feet.  
“You’ve got condoms haven’t you?” Joe says and Tom mutters a yes, praying if he doesn’t say it louder then he can erase this conversation out of his mind like lightly drawn pencil.  
“And he’s respecting you saying yes or no?” Joe adds and Tom mutters out another yes, gritted through his teeth as he fights all his instincts telling him to run.

“And... you’re being safe w-with the whole, um, the whole aftercare, uh, thing. What a-are you doing with that?” Joe says some words quickly, skimming over them as if that will somehow make it any easier to have this discussion. Tom almost does leave at the mention of that but he knows if he wants things to get more open between them, he has to tell the truth.  
“It’s not like ropes or handcuffs or anything. I-I just, call him uh, a specific name, that’s all,” Tom tries to think of the most innocent way to say it but he can’t explain much. Joe squints.

“A name?” He asks, confused and Tom scratches the back of his neck.  
“Uh, yeah,” he mumbles and Joe thinks for a minute before he smirks, forcing a grin down.  
“Thomas Blake, you big fat bottom oh my god,” Joe bursts into laughter and Tom can’t help but follow in shock as he screams ‘shut up’ over and over and whacks Joe with a pillow.

“Let me guess, is it daddy?” Joe scoffs and Tom shakes his head.  
“Master?” Tom cringes at that.  
“Dom?”  
“Joe, stop it!”  
“King?”  
“I swear to god this is-“  
“Lord?!”  
“No! That is so weird!”  
Joe pauses his intense questioning, the pillow weapon in his hand going slack as he tries to come up with something. Tom stares at him, not sure whether he wants Joe to guess it so this is over or never find out because frankly, it’s mortifying.

“Ah... sir,” Joe finishes and Tom freezes at that, his cheeks turning red as he looks away.  
“No,” Tom mutters quietly but it’s too late, Joe’s already clocked on.  
“Ooh, Tommy, that’s grim,” Joe teases and Tom just shoves his taunts away.  
“Stop it! Leave me alone!” He laughs as Joe starts throwing more food at him.  
“Or what, you going to call Sir to come and get me?” Joe laughs and Tom launches at him, play fighting until they’re rolling on the floor tugging on each others hair.

“Can’t believe I raised you to call some posh guy called Will ‘Sir’, unbelievable,” Joe pants from the floor as Tom crawls back onto the bed.  
“I can’t believe you raised me to walk you topless to the tube while you were still in handcuffs because you were too drunk to know how to undo them,” Tom reminds and Joe’s face screws up.  
“Eurgh, okay, fair point. You win,” Joe says, climbing up and feeling his elbows click as he does.

“I’m too old for this shit now,” Joe whines, twisting his back and neck, “do you know the other day I got asked when I’m having kids?” Joe exclaims as if he’s shocked by that.  
“I can’t imagine you with a child,” Tom snorts at the very idea of Joe as a father.  
“Oi, I did alright with you, didn’t I?!” Joe elbows him, “and the worst part is I almost said not until I’m older, can you believe that?!” Joe laughs in disbelief. Tom can see the lingering want in his eyes like he’s making a joke of something so he can share his pain without being upset. Tom needs to switch the topic so he raises his glass.  
“To us both officially being the ‘older’ that we always used as an excuse,” Tom says with a proud smile, Dorito crumb fingerprints littering his face and neck.  
“To being old as fuck,” Joe says knocking them together as Tom repeats it back to him.

By the time 11 pm hits, they’re both exhausted and Joe makes his way to bed, being sure to ruffle Tom’s hair as he goes. Tom lies back, brushing the final parts of the cleaned Dorito crumbs beside him onto the floor. He smiles to himself, thinking over Joe’s words. The more days like this they have, the better Tom feels about things. Even though there’s still a hesitancy to talk about Will lingering between them, Tom notices that it seems to be Will that’s brought them together after years of them barely able to stand each other despite living together and only having each other for company. His phone pings as his eyes are closing and he curses his inability to remember to reply to people. He unlocks his phone and sees one long message from Will.

Will: _I hope all is going well. No matter what happens, you know you can always come to mine. Try to see his side of things, he seems to really care about you. Here’s a couple of extra songs on the playlist for you to listen to.  
If things go well-_ [Heart Out](https://youtu.be/d32VfZ5Pf0w)  
 _If things go... not so well-_[Nothing Breaks Like A Heart](https://youtu.be/hMoHZUp1qy0)  
 _I’m sure you’ll want the explanations. The first one is what came on after your dancing song and it just made me think of us going out dancing together. The second one was recommended to me by Dan when things went bad between us but instead, I used it as a reminder that I can care deeply about people, even if it does hurt. You love so much and so fearlessly even if it hurts you and I never want you to lose that. You will always come back from it but don’t ever lose it. Talk to you later x’_

Tom thinks he could cry at how sweet and thought out the message is. The fact that he put songs from Tom’s playlist in and included the reason behind them just for Tom’s benefit is something he never thought anyone would be kind enough to do. He holds the phone close, scared that it might somehow fade away because it’s too good to be true.

Me: _everything went rlly good ! we talked a lot and i feel so much better now. Thanks for your great songs, both of them are helpful ! well see abt the dancing thing *gif of two kittens hugging*_

Will: _I’m very glad, see, I said it would be fine. :) How do you send those video things? x_

Tom smiles, a grin spreading wide across his face at the thought of Will pressing random things on his phone keyboard. For a guy in his twenties, Will for sure is abysmal when it comes to anything trendy.

Me: _look at the side of the text bar, tap the :) and search in gif !_

Will: _*gif of person clapping*_

Me: _you are so terrible with phones but its cute *gif of cartoon child with wide eyes pouting*_

Will: _Cute? I thought I was handsome and sexy. *gif of emoji pulling a grumpy face*_

Me: _Dream on youre a puppy ! Goodnight *gif of puppies playing*_

Will: _Goodnight Tom, looks like I’ve got some work to do to change your mind *gif of textbook opening*_

Tom rolls his eyes, clutching the phone in his hand and trying not to giggle like a schoolgirl. Things are slotting into place and he hasn’t felt this happy in a long time. He slides the phone to one side, forcing himself to sleep as his eyes are weighted from crying. If he allowed himself to, he’d text Will all night but he knows Will’s weed will make him dozy soon so it’s easier to just let him sleep. As his eyes close and his body winds down he wonders if this is what everybody feels like most of the time. The safety and comfort of a stable life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I'd love to hear what everyone thinks and I hope you're all still enjoying it!
> 
> My tumblr-[mclennondreams](https://mclennondreams.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Links to help current causes  
> [BLM](https://t.co/GoKfxBMmKQ)  
> [LGBT Rights](https://t.co/7mNaQud2KV)  
> [Trans Rights](https://t.co/HFAcitqPBl)  
> [Yemen](https://t.co/lio7HqZbSP)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems like so much tragedy is happening right now, I've found it really hard to muster the energy to write anything. But this is what I want to put out, a chapter of strength and happiness. If you didn't see my earlier post, this is going to be updated every 2 weeks with current events as they are. I hope this makes some of you smile and RIP Naya, thank you for showing my generation how to truly be themselves.
> 
> If anyone needs to talk my tumblr is [HERE](https://mclennondreams.tumblr.com/) or leave a comment with what you want me to message you on and I'll try my best to get back to you.

Tom stands in front of the same mirror he used on his first date except for this time it’s one day after Joe first proposed the library idea and suddenly he’s going to work. Joe decided to tell him this about an hour ago when he woke Tom up by blasting his alarm and slapping his back way too enthusiastically for that early in the morning. Tom had sworn loudly, exclaiming that Joe leave and that’s exactly when his brother had the bright idea to give him the news that he’d be entering into employment for the first time.

Now he’s dressed in his smartest jacket and shirt with his hair done and a new cologne on. To say he’s nervous would be quite the understatement, it feels like the same dark, twisting feeling as when he had stood there previously. As he’s straightening his collar in his trembling fingers, Joe’s hands slap down on his shoulders.

“You ready to join us in the wonderful world of work?” Joe sarcastically asks with a knowing smirk on his face. Tom can’t believe he’s done this, he knows Joe is cruel but this is a whole new level.  
“I would have been better ready if you’d told me yesterday that I was starting today,” Tom retorts and Joe leans back on the arm of the sofa he’s now sat on, his eyes looking at Tom’s face through the mirror.  
“Then you would have spent all night stressing about it and working yourself up to not going. The only way to get you to do things is to force them on you, Tommy,” Joe says, running his fingers through his quiff. Despite the fact he has a point, Tom still insists on being frustrated with him all morning. Deep down, Tom doesn’t want to admit that he feels physically sick at the idea of going to work because he knows that he has no legitimate reason to feel that way. But the more he’s pushed out of his comfort zone, the more he’s beginning to see the front he spent years putting on. The way he’s been hiding away to avoid pushing himself back into a dark place and he can’t do that anymore.

“You ready to go?” Joe asks, standing at the door in his suit. Joe looks almost bored with the idea of another day at work and Tom is baffled by the idea that Joe can be so nonchalant. He had never really seen himself doing what Joe does every day, but standing at the door at 6 am is suddenly incredibly daunting. He feels like it’s his first day of school except everything is worse because he can’t cling to Joe’s leg this time.  
“Uh, yeah I think so,” Tom replies, sighing and fiddling with his buttons. As thankful as he is that he doesn’t have to wear a suit, he still feels self-conscious in the all-black ensemble Joe helped him pick out.  
“You’ll do great, come on,” Joe says sincerely, leading Tom out first so he can’t hesitate and backtrack to the safety nest of their apartment.

They sit quietly on the tube, the impending new experience too much for Tom to make conversation. He doesn’t understand how Joe does it, just carries the weight of responsibility so well. He looks uncaring, even relaxed, as he eats his apple and watches the city fly past. Tom can’t help but admire his brother for getting up and doing this every day knowing that he has a house to pay for, a younger brother to look after and no choice but to keep going. Tom feels tears prickle at his eyes, he forces them back but they keep reappearing. He can’t tell if it’s first day nerves, tiredness or a sudden realisation that life isn’t as easy as people make it out to be but he can feel his emotions spiralling.

“Hey, come on talk to me,” Joe says upon seeing Tom’s emotional waves start to take ahold.  
“It’s fine, just stupid stuff,” Tom brushes off, not wanting to look a mess for his first impression.  
“Are you scared?” Joe asks, his hand reaching over and squeezing Tom’s arm. Usually, Tom would scoff and turn away, forcing everything down into a depressive episode to deal with at a later time when he’s lying in bed. But Tom can’t carry it with him all day now, he has things to do and learn, he needs to be focussed.

“Yeah, just a bit. Don’t know how you do this every day,” Tom admits quietly, feeling like a complete idiot as his shoulders slump. Joe smiles sympathetically, leaning in towards Tom.  
“I wasn’t always this good, I used to be so scared I’d carry one of your cuddly toys in my briefcase just to get me through the day,” Joe laughs, shaking his head, “but it gets easier and Mackenzie is a good man from what I know, he’s not going to just leave you in charge of the whole place,” Joe reassures and Tom just wishes Joe could spend the whole day with him. Then he’d be there as a backup, to help him if he’s stuck or to be there when he inevitably messed up and gets fired. In fact, maybe he can.

“Will you come with me? Just for a bit?” Tom whispers ashamedly and Joe pulls him in for a hug, rubbing his neck with his fingers.  
“Tom, you can do this. You don’t need me,” Joe assures him and even though Tom doesn’t believe him, he refuses to humiliate himself any further so he nods.  
“Right, come on,” Joe says as they approach their stop. Tom’s shaking hands are still wiping the moisture from his eyes as they walk around the station and out of the top. Each step just feels like walking towards an uncertain doom, like his body is being dragged somewhere it shouldn’t be. He refuses to think about Joe leaving him until they’re into the windy street and Joe has pulled him aside.

“Tom, listen. If you don’t like it, you leave, it’s as simple as that. But you’re going to be great,” Joe says, planting a kiss on his forehead. Tom doesn’t speak, not sure if he’s going to crumble or step up when Joe leaves. Joe waits for his answer but Tom purses his lips, fiddling with his sleeve. He’s never felt more like an unprepared child, even when he messes up with Will it still feels safe, like he’s allowed to mess up.

“It’s just down this road and on the corner. Have a good day,” Joe says, making sure to look Tom in the eye. As Joe turns to walk away Tom wants to reach out, grab his arm and just beg him to go home. Everything is changing and now Joe is heading off to the office, he’s not going to be there as Tom takes the biggest step he has in years and that’s a lot to handle because he’s always been there. Tom stands still, practically trembling before realising that he needs to do this or he’s never going to be able to again. He wanders down the road, checking the time every few minutes. Even the sunrise and the warming air can’t stop his fingers from picking and fidgeting. He tells himself he will just get through this with no help. No using Will as a comfort, no calling Joe, this is him and only him. He’s never been this nervous about things before and it’s unfounded, it’s just a day of work.

He isn’t quite expecting the library to be so modern, the front painted in a crisp white rim with doors and windows entirely glass. Even the entrance doors are automatic. He steps through the first ones and glances back, the street behind him so... normal. Tom checks his watch a final time as he goes through the second doors, five minutes early. Joe told him to go to the desk further back and not the ones to the left of him so he follows the room down. He’s amazed by how many DVD’s and games are displayed at the front, he never thought they would keep up with the times as much as they have. The place is gigantic, it has at least two or three floors and walls covered with books in every direction. The more he looks up, the further the rooms extend, it feels like walking into a new world. There’s no way he’s ever going to learn how to navigate this place.

“Thomas?” he hears as he pauses in his tracks, turning he observes an older man crouched down between bookshelves, he appears to be marking them with a pen. Tom turns to him as he stands up, his skinny legs protesting as he grows to tower above Tom. The man is probably taller than Will, his chained glasses perched precisely atop his brown and grey hair. He’s dressed immaculately, not a single speck of lint on any of his clothes, even the trousers he’d knelt on the floor with.  
“Uh, yes. I’m Thomas Blake, nice to meet you, sir,” Tom shakes his hand, too nervous to bother correcting him on the nickname he usually prefers to go by. The man doesn’t seem particularly bothered by Tom, giving him a quick glance over before speaking.

“My name is Colin Mackenzie, I shall be your boss for the foreseeable future,” he introduces and Tom’s heart skips a little. The man seems stern, almost reminiscent of Will’s boss, and that is a daunting thought.  
“I-I’m looking forward to working with you, thank you for having me,” Tom manages, trying to drag up the confidence he had when he spoke to Will’s boss except his time he didn’t have the upper hand of being a customer.  
“We’ve needed some extra hands around here, let me see if there’s any staff around and then I’ll show you what you’ll be doing. Follow me,” Colin says, gracefully leading Tom behind him as he saunters to a counter at the back, in front of the history section.

“For now I’ll only introduce you to the main staff you’ll be working with, that’s Adrian Hepburn, he’s my right-hand man, if you will,” Colin gestures to a door that thankfully is branded with the man's name so Tom doesn’t have to force himself to remember it. They don’t bother knocking or speaking to him so Tom immediately registers that he will never go there unless forced to. Colin looks around, checking a few aisles and rooms but doesn’t seem to find anyone. He continues to look around, even poking his head around the stairs to the left of their counter. He rolls his eyes as he makes his way back.

“Well, around the library are the rest of the staff, I’ll introduce you as they come in,” he sighs, shaking his head and picking up some scattered papers from the desk. Tom is frantically going over each sentence in his head, willing it to stay there. He almost feels like he wants to take notes.  
“I made you maps of the library and some information sheets so please look over them when you have a moment.” He hands them back to Tom without looking at him and Tom’s hands scramble to flick through them, desperately hoping it’s easy enough to grasp at a minutes glance. He sighs, following Colin as he points out some main sections he’ll be working around.

“So this is the war and historical section, we have a few regulars to this section so it will be helpful to remember this part. Down there you have languages and then on the other side is the sale section. That’s where we put all the books that haven’t been taken out in a while or that are too damaged to rent out,” Colin points to Tom’s side and leads him back to the desk.  
“This is where you’ll spend most of your time so I’ll show you the basics and then I’ll let you get on,” Colin sits Tom on the chair and Tom resists the urge to curl in. He feels so far out of his depth but he forces himself to keep a smile on.  
“Okay,” Tom responds, looking down at the desk and his papers. Colin shows him how to check for stock, check out a sale book and answer the most common questions. It all feels like it’s going at a lightning speed but Tom’s way too terrified of his boss to ask him to linger and make sure he’s doing things correctly.

“Alright, I shall leave you here at the desk, if you need me I will be around these sections,” Colin says and although Tom still feels like he has no idea what he’s doing, he nods. Colin walks off and down one of the history aisles and Tom is left sat at the desk by himself. He looks down and sees his hands are still trembling, his chest is tight and it doesn’t help that everywhere he looks is empty. The only other person he can see is one man sitting on a corner table but he doesn’t look like staff so Tom deduces he’s been left alone. So much for Joe telling him he won’t be running the store by himself. He flicks through the papers Colin had given him, marking specific places on the map so he knows where things are. Luckily, the library is still quiet with nobody to bother him, regulars passing through while flicking through books or heading upstairs to study. Tom takes a breath, he’s got this.

By lunchtime, he’s realised he might not have got this. He’s sent at least three people in the wrong direction, had to call on Colin multiple times and messed up scanning on the sale library books. He’s practically a mess and he can still see more people approaching. His trembling hand's gesture for the next person in the steadily forming queue to come forward. It’s a middle-aged blonde woman holding a book called ‘Preserving God’s Views: How To Be A True Christian Woman’. Tom knows he’s in for trouble.

“Hi, I would like to check this book out?” she says, tossing the book in his direction without a care. It’s a little rude but Tom wouldn’t dare to bring her up on it.  
“Unfortunately I can’t do check out’s here but if you head to the front till then they can help you-“ Tom begins his speech but he’s cut off immediately.  
“Nonsense, I’m here now and I will not walk all the way to the front just to check out a book.” Tom stifles a sigh, confrontation is one thing he really cannot handle.  
“I am so sorry, I don’t have the capacity to do that here. The front desk deals with all the-“ he’s cut off again.  
“I have been coming to this library for years and you are treating me like this? It’s disgraceful, where is your respect?” She’s getting angry now and Tom’s eyes begin watering. He begs his body to just stay calm but he can’t even seem to open his mouth. Before he can call Colin over, he sees someone tap on the woman’s shoulder.

“Excuse me miss, I’m heading to the self-service, you can come with me? This young man is doing his best but the self-service checkouts are way quicker anyway,” Will speaks up from behind her and Tom lets out a sigh of relief. He has no idea where Will came from or why he’s here but it feels like the godsent gift he needs. He watches as Will leads her away and tosses a smile over his shoulder before he goes. Tom sighs, slumping back and shutting his eyes before beckoning the next customer forward.

“Hi, I was wondering if I could borrow a newspaper?” the man says and Tom looks down at his papers, there’s no newspaper section written on there.  
“Uh, I don’t know where they are. I’m so sorry, you’ll have to ask-“  
“Sorry but they’re just... uh, they’re behind you,” the guy points out and Tom checks. He’s right, all the newspapers are stacked in rows behind him.

“I’m so sorry, I’m new so I have no idea where things are. Which one would you like?” Tom offers as he gets up from his seat and the guy smiles.  
“It’s okay, just The Observer please,” he says and Tom flicks through them until he finds the correct one.  
“There you go,” Tom says and the guy leaves. He cringes, almost kicking himself for such a stupid mistake when he feels a hand on his shoulder and he looks up, it’s Colin.  
“You can take your lunch break now,” he says and Tom has never felt relief like this moment. He nods and gets up, leaving the customers to Colin and finding a quiet spot upstairs to have his lunch.

His wobbling legs protest the stairs but he’ll take any chance he can to get as far away from that desk as possible. He sits on one of the study tables, sandwich in his lap and lets a tear drip down his face. Everything feels like it’s piling on top of him and he can barely breathe. He bites the corners, he doesn’t want to eat it but he needs to or he’ll have to go without for the rest of his shift. When he looks up he sees Will hesitantly coming up to the top of the stairs and looking around, he spots Tom and smiles, heading over to him. Before he can say anything, Tom gets up and practically launches into his arms.

“Hey, woah. You okay?” Will asks and Tom squeezes harder, not wanting to let go.  
“No, I hate it. I don’t want to go back,” Tom whispers, clinging to Will like he’s the only thing that can keep him upright. Will coos and it’s clear he was expecting this.  
“It’s alright, come here,” Will whispers, rubbing his back and cradling his head. Tom holds him for a while until the desperate need for comfort fades and they can sit down. Tom’s eyes are red and there’s no hint of a smile to be found.

“Everyone feels like this when they start, okay? The first time I had a woman like that yell at me I ran away and cried. It’s a lot to deal with but it will get easier,” Will comforts but Tom can’t seem to believe it. Even the thought of someone else yelling at him because he takes too long to scan something is enough to send him reeling into a panic.  
“I hate it, e-every time someone comes up to me I just want to run and I’m not even halfway through the day yet,” Tom sighs, nibbling on the end of his sandwich. The food feels like he’s trying to eat worms as it churns unpleasantly, not happy to be eating at such a stressful time. Will cups his face for a second, wiping tears away.  
“You can do it, Tom. It doesn’t matter if you mess up or if you say the wrong thing. You’re learning and soon you’ll wonder what you were even so worried about,” Will says and Tom nods, not wanting to think about it anymore so he can at least get some food into him.

“How did you know I was working today, I didn't even have time to text you about it? And anyway, shouldn’t you be at work?” Tom asks and Will smiles cheekily, looking down.  
“Well alright then, if you don’t want me here-“  
“No! No, I do, I just wondered,” Tom tries not to sound like he desperately needs Will but he does anyway.  
“Your brother text me this morning, asked if I could check up on you around lunch and since it’s my lunch break I figured I'd come and make sure you're okay. And then I told my boss that afterwards, I needed to pick up a part for a guitar I ordered but I already have it,” Will shows off a bit of metal from his pocket with a laugh and Tom smiles for the first time since he stepped through the doors that morning.

“I forget you have my brother's phone number, it's so weird. But thank you for coming, and for helping with that woman. I’m completely useless, probably going to get fired anyway,” Tom sighs, shoving the sandwich down and giving up on it for a moment. Will reaches over and plays with Tom’s hair gently to calm him.  
“It’s not the end of the world, you’re doing so much better than you think. If your boss doesn’t like it then that’s on them,” Will comforts, letting Tom breathe until his head it edging towards Will’s hand. Tom acts in gestures, almost like a puppy, and Will must notice as he strokes Tom’s hair back in rhythmic motions. Tom looks up to thank him just as he sees Colin gesture him over from the top of the stairs.  
“Lunch break is over,” Colin says and Tom nods, getting up and putting away his sandwich, it’s missing the crust but other than that he’s barely eaten. Will looks down at it before taking Tom’s hand.

“I’ll be around for about 10 more minutes if you need me, okay?” Will says and Tom shouldn’t feel as comforted by that as he does. Even though he said he wouldn’t use Will to cope, now he’s here Tom has no idea how he ever would have done this without him.  
“Okay, thank you. You’re always looking after me like a kid, yet again,” Tom scoffs, realising that Will is becoming more of a parent to him than a boyfriend. That’s a frightening thought.

“No, I’m supporting you in things you find difficult. Just like you support me when I can’t open up about things or when I play with the band and I’m nervous or when I can’t figure out how to send gifts,” Will says, squeezing his hand as they walk down the stairs.  
“It’s gifs, not gifts, but that’s cute,” Tom says, a giggle finding it’s way out of his awful mood.  
“Well, the point is you help me and I help you,” Will smiles before seeing Tom’s eyes connect with the desk, “And all you can do for the rest of the day is your best. Plus I’ve got a surprise for you after work so there’s something to look forward to.” Tom doesn’t have time to question Will about that before he’s back behind the desk. At least wondering what Will has in store keeps his mind focussed and less frantic. For the first few minutes, there’s nobody around. Tom takes sneaky glances at Will who is typing on his phone most of the time. Tom can’t contain a smile every time Will looks up and sees him, the pride in his eyes and the fact that he’s sitting in a library he has no interest in being in just to make sure Tom’s okay. It makes him want to do well, if only for Will.

“Excuse me?” Tom hears as he looks over, he sees a woman who is eerily similar to the last one that had yelled at him. He puts a smile on, trying to be brave for Will who he knows is watching.  
“I would like to buy this sale book,” she says, slamming it on the table and already rifling through her bag. Tom scans it, and checks the price sticker, typing it in.

“Okay that will be one pound fifty please,” Tom says and he can already tell by her expression that she’s not happy with that.  
“You’re wrong, the sign says fifty pence!” She says, pointing at one of the signs. Tom doesn’t know much but after sorting those books out earlier, he knows that the left is the fifty pence and the rest are the individually numbered ones.  
“I’m so sorry but only the ones on the left are fifty pence, the rest are individually numbered,” Tom explains with no lip wobbling or glossy eyes in sight.  
“This is outrageous, I want to speak to your manager,” she demands and Tom looks around, Colin is nowhere to be seen.

“I’m afraid I don’t know where he is at the moment but if you would like to wait I can go and find him for you,” Tom offers but instead she storms away, ditching the book and huffing as she leaves. Tom looks over to Will who is ready to go back to work. He nods, smiling and blowing him a kiss as he goes. Tom knows that’s Will saying he did well and that’s enough to lead him through the rest of the day.

By the time his day is over, Tom’s exhausted. He drags himself out, his head aching and his shoulders drooping. As he looks up through the two sets of automatic doors he can see Will stood outside with a sympathetic face.  
“Oh dear, you look tired,” he pouts, pulling Tom in and Tom gladly embraces a cuddle. Will’s changed into a much comfier outfit, everything about him so desperately huggable.

“Yeah, just not used to doing so much,” Tom says even though he feels like that isn’t even the half of it. He pulls away and looks around for Joe.  
“Where’s Joe?” Tom asks, hoping he can finally introduce them.  
“I texted him and told him I was going to take you out on a date but we’ll leave it for today. I’ll take you home so you can rest,” Will says, taking Tom’s hand and running his thumb over Tom’s knuckles.  
“No, it’s okay. I want to,” Tom says and even though Will can tell he’s not sure, after a bit of discussion back and forth, they make their way to the tube anyway.

“Where are we going?” Tom asks as they’re sat side by side. This tube line isn’t as rocky as the one Tom usually gets so he finds himself beginning to grow tired after a few minutes with no jolts or loud scraping noises to keep him alert.  
“You know I’m not going to tell you, but we’ve got a while so get comfy,” Will says and that’s all the permission Tom needs to snuggle up. Will leans back so Tom can rest his head on his shoulder and he holds Tom’s hand as they fly past London. Tom yawns a couple of times before his eyes close and he’s lulled to sleep by the white noise of the train. Just before he collapses into unconsciousness he’s reminded of the couple he saw on the tube so long ago, the one’s he’d so desperately wished him and Will would become. He looks down at their joined hands and the way Will smiles when he feels Tom shuffle to be closer and he realises that it’s not such a far off fantasy anymore.

“Tom, sweet?” Will is whispering as he shakes him awake. Tom’s eyes open and he light outside is blinding from where he’d unknowingly buried his eyes in Will’s jumper. Tom sits up, his neck aching and his shoulders stiff as his hand comes up to soothe them.  
“We’re off at the next stop but do you want to leave it? You look so tired,” Will says, cupping Tom’s face in sympathy at the dark bags under his eyes.

“No, I want to do it. As long as it’s not energetic,” Tom smiles which turns into a yawn and Will presses a kiss on his forehead.  
“It’s the opposite of energetic,” Will says as he leads them off the tube, immediately turning left and down a narrow path. It doesn’t exactly look safe, the grass is overgrown to the point where it’s leant over and touching the brick of the tube station wall. Will doesn’t seem deterred and continues, leading Tom behind him. They come out at a gate which Will effortlessly hops over. He takes Tom’s hand and helps him but Tom’s suspicious.

“Where are you taking me? Are we supposed to be here?” Tom says looking around and Will laughs, pulling him into his side.  
“That’s just a shortcut route. The main entrance is around the other side,” Will says, leading him down the path that is thankfully paved and not completely overgrown.  
“And before you say, I remember that you don’t like walks in the park, but I promise this is special,” Will assures with a knowing look and Tom giggles, remembering their text conversations when they’d found a funny tinder Instagram page.

“How long is it gonna take?” Tom asks and Will pauses, looking down at Tom who is clearly exhausted.  
“About ten minutes, come on, hop on,” Will says, swapping his backpack to the front and crouching down, holding his arms out for Tom to get on his back. Tom pulls a disgusted face at the notion.  
“I’ll be fine, there’s no way you could carry me for ten seconds let alone ten minutes,” Tom mutters, his ankles aching as if to purposely frustrate him and Will shakes his head.  
“Come on,” he says and Tom hesitates but eventually figures he may as well try if Will is so determined. Even though every ounce of him hates it, Will lifts him with ease, barely flinching. Tom cringes but Will doesn’t seem phased at all, his hands hold Tom’s thighs, adjust his position and then he walks.

“You comfortable?” Will asks, his eyes glancing to the side.  
“Yeah, but aren’t your arms hurting?” Tom says but Will shakes his head, continuing down the path and ducking to help Tom avoid branches.  
“Nope,” Will says as Tom tucks his face into Will’s neck. The rhythmic bobbing of their pace is comforting and Tom finds himself relaxing into Will’s hold. He can’t feel any tension or see any signs of Will struggling so he lets himself find comfort in Will’s soft jumper and old-book smell mixed in with cologne. The scent of the library seems to smell much better on Will than it does on him. There’s a crunching of leaves before the trees break for a second and a pouring of light comes in. Will trudges up a concrete path, Tom occasionally looking out as Will weaves through the maze.

He seems determined, his breaths panting as he navigates the woods with ease. Tom stifles a smile as he snuggles in closer. It feels almost dreamlike given how tired he is. The path grows more silent, any voices lost as they trail down another dark part. Will continues on for a few minutes before Tom feels his pace slow and he comes to a stop.

“Alright, sleepy. We’re here, you want to get down yet?” Will says and Tom looks up. His breath catches in his throat as he wonders how Will even found a place this beautiful in London. There’s a small trickling waterfall and the sun is glimmering on the water. The grass is littered with flowers and the trees tower above them. It feels like somewhere people would create in movies as a home for fairies and mythical creatures. Tom gets down carefully, his mouth parted in shock as Will begins laying things out on the floor. By the time Tom has wandered to the side of the water, brushing his fingers over the flowers and admiring the scene, Will has set up a small picnic on a blanket. Tom returns and sits down in the space left, baffled how Will always finds the most unique spaces.

“This is amazing, thank you,” Tom says, taking Will’s hand and squeezing it. Will smiles like he’s been given the greatest compliment in the world and Tom feels his stomach flutter at the feeling.  
“I like to come here if I’ve had a rough day or if I need some alone time. I thought you might like it,” Will says and Tom nods, looking around. If their first date place seemed like Will’s personality then this is his heart for sure. The idyllic, wondrous heaven in the depths of an outer London park.  
“I know you didn’t eat much today to I made you more sandwiches,” Will states, offering Tom a box which he gladly takes, his stomach rumbling at the sight of food he can actually have that hasn’t been brought from a store down the road and in a customer’s hands.

“The only thing I don’t have is seafood,” Will comments with a hint of a smirk and Tom shakes his head, smiling at how Will never seems phased by anything weird he does. Tom doesn’t reply, he leans over and kisses Will, cupping his cheek. He leaves delicate pecks, planting them over and over before pulling away.  
“I guess you like it, then,” Will mutters, picking up the strawberries and eating one. Tom shuffles closer, his head coming to rest on Will’s shoulder as he eats his sandwich.  
“I do,” Tom murmurs, the stress of the day dripping off him and into the ground below. All that matters is him, Will and the food he’s been waiting for all day.

Occasionally Will feeds him a strawberry which Tom eagerly takes before Will kisses his forehead. They eat half of the spread while discussing their day. Tom talks about the customers' Will didn’t get to see him serve and Will talks about the guitars he sold and how a new job is opening up at the bar they play and he’s considering taking it. Tom says he should do what makes him happy but deep down he knows all Will wants to do is play in the band.

“Can I say something important?” Will whispers when they’ve done eating and the sun has mostly set. Tom is curled up against Will, his tiredness setting in for the night now. He feels a little delirious, the rollercoaster of emotions dipping into a numbness state of nothing.  
“You just did,” Tom mumbles sleepily with a giggle and Will just breathily laughs, moving Tom’s untamed hair from his face to formulate whatever it is he wants to say. This is usually the point Tom would begin to think a breakup is coming, he’d stress and his eyes would begin watering. But he can’t find the energy to commit to that stress so he stays quiet until Will is ready to say whatever it is he deems so important he has to announce he’s going to say it before he does.

“I’ve never felt the way I do when I’m with you. I always thought I was supposed to be alone. I was actually a bit of a dick before I met you. I slept around and never allowed myself to care about anyone. Then you came in, your round eyes and your big smile and something changed. Anyway, I-I’m terrible at this but, what I’m trying to say is would you maybe like to be my boyfriend?” Will finishes and that was unquestionably not what Tom expected from that. Tom shoots upwards, his eyebrows raising and suddenly he feels more awake.

“Wait, sorry, can you ask again? I was tired and I don’t want that to be the moment, you know? I want it to be all cute and picturesque,” Tom rambles, straightening up and taking Will’s hand. Will laughs, shaking his head and cupping Tom’s face.  
“Tom, not everything has to be picture perfect. Live in it...” Will reminds him as Tom is fretting about his hair, “a-and maybe give me an answer?” Will adds nervously and Tom’s brain is whizzing at a million miles an hour, so fast he forgot to even say the yes that he’s been internally screaming.  
“Oh, sorry, uh yes! Of course, yes. I-I love-“ Tom cuts himself off with a cough, “I’d love to.” The softness in Will’s eyes says he noticed the slip-up but he seems too happy to care.

He pulls Tom in for a hug, lifting him to sit on his lap. Tom couldn’t squash the immense feeling of joy even if he tried, all of a sudden everything he’d done to get to this point seems good. All the times he’d doubted if Will even cared or thought about him were ridiculous because he cares, he cares enough to make it official. To make _them_ official.

“I thought you were going to say no,” Will whispers and Tom’s heart sinks hard and fast at how Will could ever begin to think about that. It’s clear Will’s been hurt before as there’s a soft vulnerability in his voice. Tom holds him tighter, amazed that he gets to call Will _his boyfriend_.  
“Of course I wasn’t, I wanted you the second I saw you,” Tom says, pressing a long kiss to Will’s neck. They hold each other in silence, Will gently stroking Tom’s hair and Tom pressing kisses on any area of Will’s skin he can reach. Will is humming something, the noise growing and falling in volume until he seems to find the rhythm he wants.

“The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden of dissatisfaction. The weight, the weight we carry is love,” Will whispers in a certain beat as Tom listens carefully. His heart races because it almost sounds like a confession of love. Tom stays in silence, waiting to hear if Will is going to provide any more information. Tom can see Will is staring off into the distance before he mutters, “Song by Allen Ginsburg. Always found it the most accurate way to describe romantic attraction.” Tom breathes a sigh of relief. Romantic attraction, they’re not using the L-word just yet.

“It’s beautiful, keep going,” Tom encourages, kissing Will’s cheek as he settles in. He speaks slow, almost like he’s reading from a book but there’s nothing in front of him. Tom never knew Will was into poetry, he knew lyrics were important but he never thought of poetry. Then again, he guesses songs are just poems with music.  
“But we carry the weight wearily, and so must rest in the arms of love at last, must rest in the arms of love,” Will continues as he leans back. Tom feels his eyes begin to close as he traces his finger around the patterns on Will’s jumper. He turns and sees the sky is going red now.

As Will finishes up, Tom realises if he doesn’t speak up he’s going to fall asleep there. He yawns as he opens his mouth to talk and Will looks down at where Tom is perched in his lap.  
“You want to go home now?” he asks and Tom smiles, it seems they’re closer than he thinks.  
“I don’t _want_ to but I’ll fall asleep here if I don’t and I have work tomorrow,” Tom says before pulling a face of disgust.  
“Oh no, I’m becoming one of those people that leaves things early and says they’ve got to get up for work,” Tom pouts, unhappy with the realisation he’s becoming the person he once frowned upon. Will’s eyebrows raise jokingly.

“Well, welcome to working life baby,” Will responds and Tom tries not to squeal at the casual use of pet names that they’re now apparently doing. Will must notice the smile that spreads on his face as he wraps his arms around Tom, burying his face in Tom's neck as giggling.  
“You liked that?” he whispers and Tom rushes to nod, fearing he might seem too enthusiastic. Will chuckles deep in his throat as he presses a kiss to Tom’s hair.  
“My baby.” He confirms, holding Tom so securely that, for once in his life, he feels unconditionally loved even if the words aren’t there just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read my beginning notes, this will be updated every two weeks. Love you all and I hope Tom and Will getting together finally brings a smile to your face.
> 
> And again, If you need to talk then my tumblr is [HERE](https://mclennondreams.tumblr.com/) or leave a comment with what you want me to message you on and I'll try my best to get back to you.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  *******MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING*******  
>  There is a theme of depression in this chapter, there is also self harm, dark thoughts and mentions of body dysmorphia. 
> 
> Please take caution with this chapter, if it sounds like too much, please comment below and I would be happy to explain to you what happens in this chapter without detail.

The weight of the world is a heavy burden to carry and Tom can feel every scraping inch when he wakes up. It takes a few seconds to settle in, there’s a blissful gap of stability and then his stomach drops. There’s a thick boulder dragging his bones down deep into the mattress and suddenly life feels like the worst decision anyone has ever made. A gurgle is making itself known in his stomach and when he reaches down to scratch his leg, a tough muscle-focussed ache drags his hand back down. Tom rubs his eyes, glancing at the clock blinking on his bedside table. He’s got a few minutes before Joe comes in to wake him up, he can shake this. It’s just a temporary setback because so much has happened to him recently, that’s all. He has a gnawing feeling burying its roots in his brain that this is just the start but he puts it down to a bad mood. He’ll cheer up.

Except he can’t get out of bed. The thought of living the day as he did yesterday suddenly seems like an impossible task. Opening his mouth is hard enough, let alone talking to people. Joe comes in, cheery smile on his face as he shoves his shoulder. It hurts, his skin crawling at the touch. He feels fragile, like one flick and he’ll completely collapse.  
“Joe,” Tom says, trying to pull himself together enough to convey what’s happening. He should keep quiet, Joe works so hard and not once did he take a day off no matter how bad he felt. But Tom knows he’s just the weaker, more useless out of them both. Joe didn’t seem to hear him the first time, too busy rambling about something that Tom is too wired up to take in.

“Joe,” Tom mutters, his throat closing like it’s punishing him for daring to speak. Joe stops talking, checking his phone as the light illuminates the room.  
“I think it’s bad again,” Tom says, hoping Joe remembers what that means from Tom’s teenage years. Judging by the fact his head whips towards Tom, he does.

“I’m sure it’s not, a lot is happening. You just need to get used to a routine, come on,” Joe says and Tom feels horrible for even mentioning it now, he must just be dramatic. Although something in Joe’s eyes is saying otherwise. Then again, Joe always looks out for him way more than he deserves. He gets up, ignoring the way his legs tremble and go slightly numb. He pulls on his clothes as he’s sat on the edge of his bed in the dark. Darkness is comforting, it swallows him whole and lets him feel rather than being overloaded with a million objects. The fabric feels foreign on his skin and he panics a little, that’s a feeling he only gets when things are going bad. He shoves them on faster, he’ll settle into it.

It’s about one hour into his workday that he gets his first real dark thought. He’d text Will on the tube, thinking maybe he can remind him what happiness feels like but he’s still waiting on the reply. As he sits on the desk, his body slumped and his eyes watery, he imagines all the ways Will is cheating on him. Will is probably laughing at his texts with this new guy, rolling their eyes at how needy and pathetic they sound when read aloud. He wonders if Will mimics his thick accent or if he’s giggling too hard to even try. Recounting the ways Tom has messed up and how he could ever dream Will would want him.

The only thing interrupting it is two people coming to buy books and the same man after a newspaper. He hands it over, pulling his mouth into as much of a smile as he can muster. If Will had another man Tom imagines he would look exactly like the man in front of him. Tall, brown hair, probably late 20s and his cheekbones are framed beautifully by some round, tortoiseshell glasses. He looks like a professor except he’s way too young, Will would like a smart man. They could talk about poetry and musical history together. Tom wonders if maybe Will should be seeing someone like this guy.

“Is the job really that bad?” he seems to be joking but Tom doesn’t get it.  
“What?” he says, his eyes weighted down and a particularly unpleasant thought trail running vaguely in the back of his head. He sees this guy with Will, chatting over a book and some tea by a fireplace in a little cottage.  
“You’re new here yet you look like you want to quit already,” the guy says, clearly trying to make polite conversation but Tom can’t even begin to match his enthusiasm.  
“Oh, right. Yeah,” he mutters, shuffling his papers around to make out like he’s doing something so he’ll leave. The guy just seems to wait, watching as Tom runs his finger over the map and intermittently glances up.

“It’s pretty big, I bet you struggle to find your way around,” he comments and Tom’s getting a little irritated. It can’t be difficult to tell he wants to be left in peace since the man already remarked on his less than welcoming appearance. He hums and even though guilt consumes him at being so rude to someone he would usually love for being kind to him, he can’t bring himself to care. It feels pointless to even try.  
“You clearly don’t want to be bothered so I’ll leave you be, I can take a hint. See you,” the guy says with a polite smile on his face, tapping his hand on the desk before turning away. Tom almost lets him leave but something in him can’t just let a friendly stranger hate him as everyone else does.

“Wait, sorry,” Tom says before cringing at how needy it comes across. The guy turns and smiles, walking back towards the desk.  
“I’m sorry, today just... isn’t a good day. I shouldn’t have been rude,” Tom explains in as much as he can say without bursting into tears and wailing about how everyone hates him and he just wants to be able to take a breath that doesn’t feel like he’s fighting metal chains around his chest. The guy looks down, leaning on the surface and nodding.  
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. We all have them,” he says and although Tom wants to explore just how wrong that statement is in this situation, he buries it. He’s doing his best.

“Enjoy your newspaper,” Tom mutters, pointing towards the bundle under his arm. He looks down at it and back up to Tom, almost forgetting it was there.  
“Oh, yeah I will. Thanks,” he nods, walking out of the door, his brown shiny loafers squeaking in the silence of the room. Tom begins pinching at the skin on his fingers, he’s far exceeded his quota for human interaction today.

The only slight bit of excitement he can draw out is when he sees at lunchtime he’s received a new text from Will. It’s quickly drained when he reads it, however.

Will: _Sorry, had to sort things out early at work this morning. I’ve got to be quick but I was wondering if you wanted to come round tonight? I bought a new mattress and I thought we could break it in for the first time? X *gif of a man from behind, naked from the waist down standing by the door while another man is in bed.*_

Right... Tom’s boyfriend is offering to take Tom’s virginity at the point of his (possible) biggest depression day in years. Of course.

Tom sighs, his brain telling him he needs to do this because if he keeps putting it off Will won’t stick around. Will asked him to be his boyfriend yesterday so it’s natural he wants to take the next step as soon as possible to solidify their new status. Tom starts thinking about how to reply, he wants to do it so badly but on a better day. The timing couldn’t be any worse.

Tom: _do u mean all the way? X_

He hates how it sounds but if he messes this up Will is going to think he’s a child. The reply is fast, Will must have been awaiting his reply.

Will: _Yeah, only if you want to. There’s no pressure at all x_

Tom takes a breath, Will is way too kind for him. Anyone else surely would have left by now. Tom places his phone on the table, frustration growing at his stupid body for doing this to him. The image of trying to be sexy is enough to put him off any food he's forcing down. Against his better judgement, he agrees to it. Maybe it will make him feel better, Will’s good at that.

When he sees Joe through the glass at the end of the day, he doesn’t know whether he wants to run up to him and hug him or scream at him. The lie of it just being a routine change is still cemented in his mind and he also desperately needs someone to take his anger out on.  
“Hey, feeling any better?” Joe asks immediately and Tom knows he’s probably worried about it all day. Tom took it hardest in his dark days but Joe was a very close second, he had to keep a constant eye on him even when he couldn’t be around. Tom pulls his sleeves over his scratched up fingers and smiles for his brother's sake.  
“A little bit yeah,” he feels like he’s shoving the words out, almost like stubborn children that refuse to go to school and are dragging their heels. Joe doesn’t appear convinced but he plays like he does. Tom hates that he’s doing this to him, he vows he won’t let it happen again.

They ride home, Tom’s fingers shaking with a need to feel something. A sharp sting of his nails or a burn of a pinch but he doesn’t because even though Joe’s eyes aren’t on him, he’s still looking over with every minute movement. Tom keeps it together, instead choosing to stress out about his later meeting with Will and regretting saying yes. He knows Will would always be a gentleman and would never say anything about his body but Tom imagines what he’ll be thinking and it’s making him want to turn himself inside out to escape it. Everything is overloading him and he can’t wait until it goes numb again and the waves of nerves stop completely.

Once they’re home Tom immediately follows Joe into his bedroom. He doesn’t even notice he’s done it until he’s sat on Joe’s sophisticated grey bedsheets. Joe hangs his blazer back up and undoes his tie by his wardrobe.  
“Talk to me, you’re thinking about something. I thought you were feeling better?” Joe says and Tom chews the inside of his cheek. He doesn’t want to have this conversation and if he was feeling better he’d probably just look it up but the effort that would take vastly overtakes any shame he currently feels.

“Will wants to sleep with me tonight, it’s my first time,” Tom says in a monotone voice and Joe’s hand freezes up where he’s unbuttoning his shirt. He stays still for a moment, formulating his response before sitting down next to Tom.  
“I thought you did it on the first night?” Joe comments and Tom shakes his head. Now Joe is close to him he feels weird, he can smell his cologne too strong and the way his feet shuffle is grating on his ears but he needs this advice so he perseveres.

“No, we’ve done other stuff but not that,” Tom mutters, not able to make eye contact so instead he’s stuck looking down at the floor and trying to keep his hands in check.  
“I don’t want to tell you what you should and shouldn’t do but you don’t look excited about it. I don’t think you should do it today,” Joe responds, placing a hand on Tom’s knee. Tom flinches and Joe quickly pulls away, returning his hands to his lap. He would usually be a lot louder and a lot more opinionated so Tom must not have hidden his mood well.

“I really want to, I’m just nervous,” Tom thinks about his word choices carefully, that way he can avoid saying anything that could be perceived as a lie. He wants to do it, he does, but he wants to feel better even more.  
“As long as you douche before you go and you have a conversation about what you want and your safe words, you make sure he consents and you consent. It’ll be fine,” Joe lists and even though it’s the bare minimum, it sounds overwhelming. But this is the one life experience he has to do by himself so he either has to suck it up or admit he’s being a baby again. He nods and gets up, needing time to sit alone before he begins to get ready.

He stands there in silence for a bit, having a million more questions that he definitely knows he can’t ask and Joe trying to figure out what to say next. Tom opens the door like he’s going to leave but a hole opens in his stomach and a question he’s scared to ask almost forces it’s way to the surface. It’s the same question that has been eating away at him all day.

“Joe?” Tom says, standing in the doorframe and turning around to face him.  
“Yeah?” Joe says, sighing and lying back on the bed.  
“What do I do if he doesn’t like it?” Tom mutters, his head hanging down and Joe squints in confusion.  
“Well, if you don’t like what you’re doing then you change it up, try something else,” Joe shrugs, unsure why Tom’s face is suddenly worse than before.

“No, I mean what if he doesn’t like... me?” Tom stutters, his throat closing at the thought before his lip starts to go.  
“Alright, come on. Come here,” Joe smiles sympathetically, patting the bed, “he’s your boyfriend, of course, he’ll like you, he’s already seen you,“ Joe says, shuffling to sit next to Tom but not too close. Tom fiddles with his fingers as he sits on the edge of the bed.  
“But whenever we did anything it was dark or he was focussed on other stuff,” Tom’s speaking quietly, nerves hitting him full force.

“If he truly likes you like he says he does then he’ll be just as worried about this as you. Nobody’s first time with a new boyfriend is perfect but if he’s good like you’ve said he is then all he’ll care about is how you feel,” Joe says and Tom hums, not wanting to voice his real opinion. His mind is racing and he can’t keep up with it, he’s tripping and stumbling and each turn seems worse than the last one. Unfortunately, Joe knows Tom’s tricks too well to let all this slip by.

“What’s the actual problem?” Joe says in that knowing tone and Tom sighs. Even saying it aloud feels stupid, everything about it is embarrassing and he dreads bringing attention to it for fear it might be confirmed.  
“You wouldn’t get it,” Tom whispers, shoving the thought away but it bobs straight back to the surface.  
“Try me,” Joe replies, reaching over and squeezing his brother's shoulder before taking his hands away.  
“You’re all skinny and muscled and so is Will, I-I’m just... not,” Tom says and Joe shakes his head, already geared up for a fight.

“Is this what he’s got you believing?! Because I am not having that-“ his voice is loud and Tom squints in disapproval and barely manages to stop the intense urge to cover his ears.  
“Joe, stop, this is me. Not him, he hasn’t said anything and he never would,” Tom says and Joe relaxes, it’s moments like that that remind Tom where he gets his snappy judgements from. Even though Tom believes it, the ideas of what Will will be thinking is still lingering.  
“I should think not,” Joe mutters, collecting himself, “you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Joe looks him dead in the eye and that seems to set him off, it starts as a tight throat and before he knows it, there are sobs coming from him that he can’t hold in.

“Hey, Tom? Oh dear,” Joe sighs like he knew this was coming, passing Tom tissues.  
“It’s alright, it’s okay,” Joe whispers as Tom cries into his cupped hand. He tries to catch his breath but it’s been building all day and now everything is spilling out.  
“I hate it, i-it wobbles and I still, I s-still have scars and lines. He’s gonna hate it,” Tom whispers, his voice cracking as he forces himself to get it out now so he doesn’t emotionally dump all this on Will.  
“He isn’t going to,” Joe assures, biting his own lip so he doesn’t get emotional.

“I’m so tired of this, of being scared and hating everything a-and crying all the time, I just want something nice. Why can’t I have something nice for once?” Tom practically pleads, shoving his hands down on the bed and getting frustrated now the sadness has taken ahold. Joe is still calm, trying to coax him down.  
“It’s not you, okay, you know the doctors said that if you had big life changes your depression and mood swings would flare up, didn’t they? You’ve got a boyfriend, started a job, made up with me and you’re losing your v card so it was always going to be difficult,” Joe explains and Tom knows he’s using the ‘remind them it’s their mental health’ tip he’d read about in the leaflet but he appreciates it nonetheless.

“I just want to be normal. I want to go to work and not feel like I want to crawl into a hole. I want to sleep with my boyfriend and feel good about it. I want to feel happy again. Properly happy, not just happy when good things happen,” Tom says, wiping his eyes with the tissue and ripping it in his shaking grip.

“I know you do, and if I could make it happen for you I would. Do you want to try medication again?” Joe asks and Tom immediately shakes his head, he hated the side effects and withdrawals last time.  
“No,” Tom mutters.  
“Things might have changed this time? Maybe the effects won’t be so severe now you’re older,” Joe says and Tom shakes his head again. Joe lets a breath out, he’s never been the best at dealing with this.

“Things are going to feel better, you just need to get used to them. You’ll settle into this job, into your relationship, into your... sex life, and things will calm down. Everything’s hit you at once and your brain doesn’t know how to deal with it, that’s all,” Joe says and Tom feels a little better now he’s had a good cry and got all the emotions bubbling up off his chest. It feels better not to go through it alone this time, he used to lock himself away and no amount of crying on the floor ever gave him any relief from the cold, empty feeling but talking to Joe feels like he isn’t so lonely.

“Thanks, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was holding all that in,” Tom clears his face with the tissue Joe handed him.  
“Old habits. Maybe we can look into getting you back into therapy. A proper one this time,” Joe says and as much as it sounds like a nice idea, he knows they can’t afford it.  
“I’m alright, maybe another time when I have a stable job,” Tom says and there’s a sad look that grows in Joe’s eyes.  
“If you want it, I’ll get the money. You don’t have to worry about that,” Joe says and as thankful as Tom is, he feels like he can’t put that burden on Joe.  
“Maybe, I don’t know,” Tom says, trying to close off the conversation and Joe seems to get the hint.  
“I’m going to go shower, thank you,” Tom says and Joe hesitates before smiling. Tom knows what that face means, he hasn’t seen it in a long time and even then it was only when they were fighting. But he recognises it instantly.

“Tommy, you know I have to...”  
“Joe, I’m fine. I’m older now,” Tom sighs, desperately not wanting to have his brother babysitting him.  
“Don’t fight me on it please, I’ll leave for you do anything related to Will but I’m staying for the rest,” Joe says and Tom sighs, wanting to plead with him not to but he knows it’s useless.

Tom showers with Joe sat on the other side of the curtain, the only time he leaves is for 5 minutes and then Tom allows him to check when he comes back in. Neither of them say anything and it’s eerily reminiscent of his teenage years when they first moved in together. But Tom manages to escape with a bit of his dignity and definitely scar-free.

Joe retreats to his own room to let Tom get dressed which he’s incredibly thankful for. He shuts the door and a few tears drip as he hurries on his clothes. He barely remembers to pick out his good underwear and socks in his haste to just be ready and get this weird night over with. He looks at himself in the mirror as he sprays his cologne and shapes his hair. The peeling stickers do nothing to hide his insecurities, their residue only blurring parts. He turns to the side, running a hand along his stomach before shaking his head, he can’t do this now. He has more important things to worry about. He feels his phone vibrate and part of him wishes it wasn’t Will for the first time.

Will: _Downstairs when you’re ready x_

Tom sighs and pockets his phone, checking he looks decent before knocking on Joe’s door.  
“Come in,” Joe mutters, quickly shoving a tissue discreetly into the bin. It’s no use, Tom immediately notices his red eyes anyway and guilt consumes him. He almost just wants to stay home and play happy to cheer Joe up but cancelling on Will after all this would seem worse.

“Going to Will’s,” Tom says, the words scratching as the exit his throat. Joe smiles, getting up and pulling him in.  
“Love you, be safe and call me if you need me okay?” Joe says, squeezing Tom briefly.  
“I will, love you too,” Tom says, sighing as he lets go of Joe and heads to the door. He picks the keys up and fakes the happiness he knows Will is probably expecting as he makes his way down to the main lobby.

“Hey, ready to go?” Will asks and Tom nods, not ready to trust his voice as they get in the Uber. Will tries to make conversation and Tom does his best to tell him in detail about his day and the people he met like he did yesterday. But there’s a weight on him and even seeing Will giggle isn’t shifting it. When they arrive at the door all the nervousness returns and Tom no longer feels normal. His fear is suddenly gripping him and his bones feel like they’re made of lead. He carries on, sitting on the sofa next to Will and listening to his stories of what Dan had texted him earlier but he’s disconnected. Usually, every word coming out of Will’s mouth would be a gift from a higher being but it washes over him like muddy water. It takes effort to respond and most of the times he’s responding to the tone of Will’s voice rather than the words.

“Hey, Tom? Hello?” Will says, raising his eyebrows and that forces Tom to start paying more attention.  
“Sorry, what was that?” Tom says and Will laughs, pulling him closer.  
“I said do you want a drink?” Will repeats and Tom nods.  
“Uh, water please?” he says quietly, his throat dry and sore after his emotional episode.  
“I meant alcoholic... but it’s okay if you want water,” Will hurries to clarify and as much as Tom would love to get super drunk, sleep with Will and drown out the feeling with alcohol, he knows when he’s like this that it won’t help.

“Just a water,” Tom confirms, unable to think of a decent excuse as to why he doesn’t want a beer when he’s usually up for one. Will comes back in, wine glass and water in hand as the ice clinks against the glass.  
“There you are, beautiful,” Will says and Tom feels a pain shoot through him when he can’t even feel the joy of Will calling him beautiful. He smiles like he usually would, curling into Will more and trying to keep everything normal. Even though it feels like a lie, telling the truth seems worse, so he keeps it going throughout the Brooklyn Nine-Nine episodes and the kissing in the ad breaks. He has enough knowledge of every episode to know when to laugh so he can zone out and try to calm himself down.

When Will’s hand starts drifting up his thigh, that’s when he remembers why he was so nervous in the first place. He takes discreet deep breaths and begs his body to hold it together. Will leans over, kissing his neck before putting his wine glass down and whispering, “is this okay?” Tom nods, closing his eyes and hoping pleasure will override the burning ache of hatred for himself in the pit of his gut. That maybe somehow it will turn into a fiery, passionate heat instead of a white-hot ache. Will’s hands on him don’t feel as delicate as they do on other days, it feels less pleasurable and more dirty. But he wants it, he wants to have this experience with Will so insanely bad that he takes Will’s hand and goes up to his bedroom.

Will guides him down to the bed and Tom leans up, kissing him passionately and pleading to feel something, anything. They begin slow, almost slow enough that Tom can convince himself it’s going well. He can feel Will rubbing at his crotch, his fingers skimming the length that would usually be hard and leaking now. Why isn’t this working? Tom lies back, tells himself to relax. Will is kissing his neck and trailing downwards but that’s going fast, he’s almost at his stomach. Tom begins to freak out, it feels dangerous letting him that close to such a horrible sight. He thinks of distractions, something that will ease his worries. Maybe if Will talks to him, takes his mind off things a bit then he can get into it.

“Talk to me, wanna hear your voice,” Tom asks, wrapping his arms around Will’s shoulders and holding him close as he grinds down on Tom’s body. Thankfully he moves upwards to speak into Tom’s ear.  
“Mmm, baby, gonna make you feel so good,” Will growls into his ear, his deep, raspy tone punctuated by thrusts that would usually send a tingle down Tom’s body. He can feel Will’s hard on grinding on his thigh yet every time he sneaks a glance down while Will is panting in his ear, he’s still soft. He squeezes Will’s shirt in his fists, so scared that for the first time he’s not turned on. He rubs his hands around Will’s body, even slipping under his shirt to trace his abs but all he can focus on is how much he desperately wishes he were worthy enough of having Will in his arms like this.

He keeps his hands on Will’s skin, nervous that if he strays from that, Will might notice something is bothering Tom. The only thing he has left to work for him is the one thing that’s seemingly never failed. He takes a breath, thinking of the sexiest things he can imagine.  
“P-Pull my hair, please,” Tom whispers, hoping the voice cracks get mistaken for moans.  
“Already? Baby, I was hoping we could take our time. Want to spread you out and treat you like you deserve,” Will says, pulling away and looking at Tom’s face. Tom reaches up and cups Will’s flushed cheek, giving him his best wide-eyed, pleading face. Will seems to easily give in, smirking as he leans down and gently kisses Tom’s lips.

“Alright, my man gets what he wants,” Will purrs as his fingers teeter across his scalp and finally Tom feels goosebumps. He follows it, grasping for that feeling that’s finally growing. The combination of Will’s delicate touch with his rough thrusts are beginning to make Tom a little tingly. Finally, it’s working, something is turning him on! He feels Will’s fingers curling in preparation and he grinds up, wanting some friction to help him along until Will yanks. Suddenly it burns. It’s never burned before? It’s never even hurt before. He can’t even register why it stings so bad but he feels like it’s on fire. Tom reaches up and cradles it, his lip wobbling and his body curling in completely. It’s pathetic, he’s so pathetic.

“Woah... what? Hey, Tom? Tom?” Will is saying his name over and over but Tom doesn’t want to think about it. He can’t stop hurting and aching and every point him and Will are in contact now feels dirty and wrong. Will is stroking his arms and cupping his face but he squirms away from it. Will climbs off him and crouches by his side, a worried look on his face and unsure what the hell to do. Tom shuts his eyes, he doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to be anywhere. He starts crying, salty tears dissolving on his lips and his hands shaking. His brain registers something that sounds like his brother’s name but at that point, he doesn’t even know anymore.

“Hey, sorry for calling you, Joe. I-It’s Will, Tom’s boyfriend. I think something’s wrong, he just froze up and started crying. Do you know wha-“  
There’s a muffled voice that draws Tom’s hearing in, it’s Joe, it’s _home_. He strains to hear it but Will is all the way over the other side of the room. Joe is talking for a while without much pause.  
“Alright, okay. Shall I bring him home or,” there’s a pause, “okay. Got it, you want to speak to him?" Will says and Tom is begging Joe to say yes. He hears a shuffle and then a brightness blinds his eyes to white temporarily. Will mutters and the brightness dims as he swears at his phone. The next voice he hears is Joe's.

"Tommy? You okay?" Joe says on top of the background rustle. Tom doesn't want to speak yet, he wants Joe to just keep talking and make everything stop.  
"Tommy?" Joe repeats and that's when Will steps in upon noticing Tom can't put into words what he wants.  
"He's here, just not ready to talk yet by the looks of it," Will mutters into the microphone and Joe sighs.  
"Alright Tom, I'm on my way. Tell Will what you need until I get there if you can, it's going to be okay," Joe says and a whimper comes from Tom's mouth as he shuffles closer. Will leans forward, taking the glow closer to Tom's face.

"Joe, I don't want to be like this again," Tom whispers, his voice cracking and he prays Joe doesn't ask him to repeat it.  
"It's not going to be, how about I bring you your favourite big hoodie for the ride home, yeah?" Joe asks and Tom manages to get out a weak 'yeah' with a hint of a smile.  
"Okay, I've gotta go order an uber, I'll see you in a minute. Love you," Joe rushes and Tom can hear the keys jingling by the microphone.  
"Love you too," Tom says and Will takes the phone back as he settles into the mattress.  
"Okay, thanks man. Bye,” Will finishes up and turns to face Tom. He crouches down and brushes a finger along Tom’s cheek to get him to open his eyes.

“Everything better?” Will asks and Tom nods, still curled up on his side. He muffles out an apology.  
“I’m sorry I can’t get hard,” he thinks it will make Will laugh but Will shakes his head sympathetically.  
“It’s okay beautiful, I’m gonna get your drink and then I’ll be back okay?” Will says and Tom nods, already missing his presence the second he’s out the room despite not appreciating it all night. Will barely takes a minute, Tom can hear the thudding as he comes back up the stairs two at a time. Joe must have said not to leave him alone.

“Take a few sips, your brother will be here to get you soon alright,” Will says as Tom sits up and he guides the glass towards Tom’s mouth. That’s when the blankness settles in. Everything feels numb and cold. His muscles ache and his body is dropping, shaking with the effort to even keep him upright. Tom is humiliated when he reaches for the glass only to find he can barely hold it still. Instead, Will takes over and Tom stares at the wall. Realising if he recognises how embarrassed he is, he’ll never overcome it.

He takes in a bit of ice cube without realising and coughs as it slips unregulated into his throat. Will panics, immediately fishing the ice out and off his tongue with two fingers and placing it back in the glass.  
“Phew, that was a close one,” Will comments as he grabs a tissue and begins placing all the ice cubes in it. Tom looks down at him, he doesn’t deserve Will. He can’t believe that Will chose this. Then again, it was only because he hasn’t seen this side of Tom’s depression and now he has he’ll run so far and so fast he’ll be a blur in the distance.

He feels a hand pressing against his forehead and shuffles away before Will is helping him out of his jacket and shoes and pushing away the duvet. Will sits beside him, his arm out as an offer but not as a prompt and without even saying anything, he turns the TV on low. Tom settles, the expectations and anxiety fading as he sees that Will isn’t angry or upset. Even though he’s worried, he’s stable and he’s okay. Tom looks over at him and Will smiles before making a gesture with his hand. Tom’s eyebrows furrow and Will repeats it, making a spotlight gesture over his head.

“I’m signing, it used to help Ned when his depression made it hard for him to talk,” Will says and that’s the first thing that’s made Tom feel something since that morning. Tom repeats the action, not sure what it means.  
“It’s light, my way of saying do you want the light off,” Will explains and Tom takes the first proper breath where his lungs don’t feel tight. He signs it again, more purposefully this time and Will gets up, turning the light off and using the glow from the TV to navigate back to the bed.

Will signs again, holding his hands in a C shape and tipping towards his mouth. Drink. Tom shakes his head. Will does another sign, he pinches his fingers together and taps his lips. Eat? Tom shakes his head, his stomach gurgling at the thought. Gradually he gets more comfortable as Will signs his way around. Asking if he wants the volume down or up on the TV (a gesture of twisting round with his pointer finger at the side of his head before pointing down and then up) to which Tom shakes his head again. Then he asks if Tom wants the window open (a gesture with his hand that looks like opening a gate) Tom nods and Will gets up, opening the window and letting cold air flow through the room.

The final one is where his comfort bubble bursts, Will gathers his fingers together into a point, tapping his cheek. Tom figures it means kiss and a wave of guilt washes over him, Will’s his boyfriend but the thought of being touched is too much. He should let him though, right? Will is just trying to comfort him and refusing him would be rude.  
“No kisses?” Will whispers and Tom feels horrible, he hates that he’s disappointing Will. First the sex and now he can’t even accept a simple kiss on the cheek.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t matter if you don’t want it, that’s what the sign is there for. So you can say yes or no,” Will says, reaching over and taking Tom’s hand. On instinct, Tom flinches, the touch too much to handle when he feels sensitive already. Will pulls back quickly, looking over to Tom.

“Sorry, Ned always liked to be touched,” Will says before noticing that makes Tom feel even worse, “but you’re not Ned, you’re Tom. You’re my beautiful boyfriend and I’m going to try my best to help you in the way that you need,” Will says, more to himself than Tom. He might not be doing perfect, but Tom can see he’s trying so he signs back one of the limited things he knows from seeing it on TV. Four fingers pulling away from his chin, thank you.

Will smiles widely, putting a fist to his chest and wiggling his thumb.  
“Means sweetheart but it’s American sign language,” Will says and Tom smiles, repeating the action back. He settles back, his eyes heavy when his head hits the pillow. He wants to cry but he can’t seem to, there’s a barrier stopping him from accessing it. His stomach jolts a bit as if he’s trying to cry but nothing’s working. He wishes he was at home, tucked up with nobody’s eyes on him. Will looks over and Tom tries to stop but that makes it worse. Will watches, unsure of what to do when he can’t resort to physical affection, he takes to muttering words of encouragement.

“It’s okay, don’t fight it. You’re safe,” Will says but that seems to make it worse again.  
“I-I’m not,” Tom whispers, not wanting to feel what he thinks is coming because it’s cold and icy and even Will can’t stop his dark thoughts.  
“You are, I promise,” Will assures more passionately. As he’s trying to decide what to do, he hears footsteps on the stairs. His first thought is Joe and he almost wants to cry harder with relief. He can’t muster the strength to look up so he listens to Will when the person appears in the door.

“Hey Dan, now’s not really a good time,” Will says quietly and there’s some muffling coming from the door. No, Tom slips his eyes shut, he wants Joe. He wants home.  
“No, no, everything’s okay,” Will replies and there’s a rustling in the direction of Will’s draws.  
“It should be on the top left,” Will whispers until there’s a clunk of a draw shutting.  
“No problem,” Will says and Tom shuffles, hoping that’s the last of it. He loves Dan but he doesn’t want him in this moment.  
“No, it’s fine thanks. It’s a breakup Ned situation,” Will replies and Tom has no idea what that means but if it makes Dan leave then that’s great. There are a few more mutters from both sides until Dan leaves. 

“Sorry about that,” Will whispers and Tom shakes his head. He reaches up to his mouth and makes a C shape so Will grabs his glass and helps him drink. He mimes ‘eat’ after he puts the glass down and Tom continues to shake his head.  
“Baby, I bet you haven’t eaten since lunchtime. Just a little bit? I’ll get Dan to make you whatever you want,” Will encourages and Tom feels so much guilt at already messing Will’s night up, he takes it. He nods and immediately a smile hints at Will’s lips. Tom might not want the food but he’s making Will happy so it doesn’t matter.  
“Bread,” Tom whispers, preparing himself to explain but he doesn’t have to. Will picks up his phone and there’s a barely audible ringing from downstairs.

“Hey, could you bring up one slice of bread please?” Will says before hanging up and moments later Dan is back at the door, a slice of bread in hand as he passes it to Will. Dan looks at Tom and before Tom can stop himself he makes eye contact with Dan. He expects confusion, maybe awkwardness but there’s nothing weird about it. Dan is looking at him with nothing but affection.  
“Ned’s used to be dry crackers, we all carried a pack of these crackers around just so we could get him to eat something,” Dan says with a sympathetic smile before kissing Will’s hair and ruffling it. He walks back to the door and stands there for a second, muttering something Tom can’t hear before Will says “alright. No thanks, see you tomorrow,” and he’s gone.

“Joe’s out the front, you want any help?” Will asks and Tom shakes his head, politely refusing the bread even though he’d just asked for it. Will puts Tom’s shoes on and helps him with his jacket before Tom leaves, he stops Will following him out so Will watches from the upstairs window. It’s dark so he can only see figures and shadows and he can’t make out which is which but they’re getting into a car and that’s it. Tom’s gone.

Once Tom sits in the uber, he feels worse than before. He just ditched Will after he was supposed to spend the night with him. He couldn’t even let his own boyfriend touch or kiss him. He curls up in a ball, his head on the window as he huddles into the hoodie Joe gave him.  
“Tom, stop blaming yourself, alright? This isn’t your fault,” Joe whispers, he has no idea how unhelpful that is but Tom appreciates him for at least trying.

They sit in silence and as soon as they’re through the door Tom goes straight to his bedroom. This time Joe follows him in instead and Tom begs in his mind just for Joe to leave, he doesn’t want him here. He doesn’t want to be watched. Joe pulls the curtains shut and tops up the water beside Tom’s bed. He begins rifling around, taking anything sharp that Tom has accumulated over the years he felt better. Tom hates it, he hates every second. When Joe is satisfied, he crouches down by Tom’s bed.

“I know you want to be alone but I’m just going to sit here in silence. Do whatever you need to do, I love you,” Joe whispers before sitting himself on the beanbag across from the bed. Tom curls up and sobs, sobs so hard he feels physically sick. He’s angry and he’s guilty and he’s just so tired. He squeezes the duvet so hard his fingers ache, that’s what he needs. He needs pain but Joe won’t let him. He reaches down, it’s been years but he can’t help falling back into it. He pinches his stomach, digging his nails in hard as he holds his breath. When it starts to sting he drags his nails across it. He manages a few times until Joe catches on.

“Hey, Tommy. Roll over for me,” Joe says and at first, Tom refuses.  
“It’s okay, I know you’ve hurt yourself. I’m not mad,” Joe assures and Tom sighs, rolling over as Joe pulls up the bottom of his t-shirt. He uses his phone on a low brightness to look at the scratches.  
“I’m just going to get a flannel to clean it up,” Joe says, leaving the room. Tom knows this is the only alone time he’ll get. Part of him hopes it isn’t there, that Joe somehow found it but it is, taped just under the bedframe. He rushes, not even caring where or how as long as he gets that burst of feeling. He can hear Joe coming back and he slips it under the bedframe. Joe passes Tom the flannel and Tom puts it over his wounds. He expects Joe to check again when he comes in, he waits for it but it never comes. That’s when the guilt of hiding comes in. The pleasure has passed and now he can just feel the uncomfortable sting.

“Joe,” Tom whispers, his voice crackly and wet.  
“Yeah,” Joe replies, getting up and crouching by Tom’s bed. Tom cries, his hands covering his face and that’s when Joe notices a smudge of blood on his little finger.  
“Someone’s quick,” Joe comments, feeling along the wooden bed frame. When he can’t find it with his touch, he uses his torch until he sees a glint of metal coming from underneath.  
“Got it,” Joe says, plucking the blade from under that mattress and placing it across the room.

“Can I see?” Joe asks and Tom shakes his head, desperately not wanting to disappoint him.  
“I just need to check. I’ll be quick I promise,” Joe whispers and Tom regretfully nods, burying his head in the pillow. Joe tends to the wounds, cleaning them and wrapping bandages around Tom’s stomach.  
“All sorted, you’re okay,” Joe says in such a loving tone that it aches Tom’s heart. He curls up but hisses when it burns and his body automatically relaxes to escape the scratch.

He feels the emotion draining from him with each passing second until he’s shivering and burning up all at once. Joe drapes a blanket over his legs but leaves his top half clear. It’s that simple gesture that feels like he’s been rolled back years. His breaths begin to come shorter when he realises it’s hit him again. He thought he was free but it’s yanked him down faster than he can comprehend. Overnight was all it took, one bad morning and he’s right back where he began. Except for this time, he knows he can’t do it alone. He can’t lie there and let it consume him entirely.

“Joe?” Tom whispers and Joe is immediately by his side.  
“Yeah buddy,” he replies, the warm tone soothing and making him feel better about what he’s desperate not to say.  
“I think I need help again,” Tom whispers, sniffling and rubbing his eyes. Joe pauses, looking down and resting on his knees.  
“It might just be a bad day, we don’t know yet so don’t panic. But if you want help, we’ll get it, yeah?” Joe says and Tom can tell that he’s fighting it just as much. Neither of them wants to go through this again.  
“Yeah... love you,” Tom says unsurely. Joe shuffles his fingers around the bed until he grips Tom’s hand.  
“Love you too. You’re already doing better than last time by recognising you need help. Get some rest, I’ll bring some food in and you just let me know when you want it,” Joe says, pressing a kiss to Tom’s forehead. Maybe things can be easier this time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in the hopes that I could aid in some truthful mental illness representation to the fanfiction world. I did my very best to draw on my own experiences and research to form this chapter. A massive thank you to one of my wonderful friends (hoping she knows who she is) for proofreading this and giving me a lot of support, it helped immensely.
> 
> If any of you are struggling, please know you are not alone, there are places where you can get help online or over the phone [HERE](https://checkpoint.carrd.co/)
> 
> and if any of you would like me to help you find some help to fit your needs, I would be more than happy to.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another chapter I'm really not happy with but I wanted it to feel real and this is about as real as I could make it! Hope you enjoy or it makes you feel something at least!

It isn’t a one day thing as they’d hoped, or even a one week thing. It’s two and a half weeks later and Tom is still struggling to even get the motivation to roll over in his own bed. Despite things seemingly becoming a little clearer, Tom assumes that’s just him settling back into the feeling rather than his almost obsessive attempts at overcoming it. Every morning Joe comes in and asks him how he’s doing. Every morning Tom tells him the same thing he said yesterday and the day before that. Joe will sigh as if he’s in any way surprised by the answer, kiss Tom’s head and they’ll begin the morning routine.

Joe will force him up to brush his face and wash his teeth, maybe shower if they’ve got time before Joe leaves for work. Then he’ll check Tom for scars and tuck him back into bed. They will sit and eat breakfast together in the darkness of Tom’s room or sometimes in silence and sometimes Tom will ask how work is. Joe will mumble a monotonous story that Tom doesn’t have to focus too hard on and then he’ll leave. At lunchtime, he’ll rush back to check on him and bring him food in from the kitchen and then he’ll get home and they’ll sit together for the rest of the night. The longer time drags on, the more fear begins to creep in at just how much time will pass before he can feel anything again. They both know that the way they’re operating now can’t be a forever thing, but there isn’t a solution they can agree on.

Occasionally Will pops round while Joe is at work, he’ll sit with Tom for a while but Tom can tell that Will doesn’t know what to do. Sometimes he brings him books and magazines or he’ll teach him more signing but there’s a rift growing as time passes. Even though Tom is a lot more talkative now, mainly due to hating the thoughts that accompany the silence, there's still something they're not communicating. Tom is beginning to sort the dark thoughts from the real ones with Joe’s help but he knows he’s not misunderstanding the awkwardness between them. Sometimes Tom holds on to the darkness for fear that once it passes, Will will find a way to leave him when he thinks he’s strong enough to handle it. If you could even call it leaving when they’ve barely begun.

“Hey, are we okay to talk?” Will says one afternoon, the rain hammering on the window behind him. Tom lets his eyes slip shut, begging any higher power to let him keep Will for just a few more days, even hours.  
“Yeah,” Tom replies, preferring to get this over with. He thinks about the guy he’s been picturing Will with, maybe that’s who he’s about to tell him about. Maybe he’ll be kind and leave the details of this person out so that Tom can’t spend every torturous waking moment thinking about how gentle the new guy is when they kiss or if he satisfies Will’s sexual needs better than Tom ever dreamed of doing.

“Was it me who did this? Did I rush into things too fast?” Will asks, fidgeting nervously on the chair beside Tom’s bed. Tom looks up and squints, Will’s face only illuminated by the dull screen and the light leak from the edge of the curtains. It wasn’t what he anticipated yet it stings like a knife to his chest because it sounds like Will is blaming himself for causing all this, blaming himself for Tom’s stupid brain. It’s horrible to be told you’re not good enough but to hear how the other person blames themselves for your pain somehow feels worse. Tom repeats what he and Joe had discussed, the things he had to write out so they could get to the root cause of his low mood and try to dissipate it.

“No, it was everything. You, the job, Joe. And I was way overdue a meltdown anyway,” Tom comments, expecting the last part to sound like a quirky quip but it flies straight over Will’s head, he still seems unsure. Tom goes over if he should have grouped Will into that category as it wasn’t anything to do with him, but he had been a significant change. Maybe he should have considered Will’s feelings first before he opened his stupid mouth, he’s about to take it back when Will replies.  
“I’ll be honest. I don’t know what to do? I don’t know how to help o-or what is best for you and I’m kinda going through some stuff too so I’m finding it... hard,” Will hesitates and Tom can almost hear the breakup in Will’s subtle accent now. At least he’s kind enough to offer to help, it’s not what he deserves but it’s an appreciated gesture nonetheless.

“You can leave if you want, I’m not gonna be mad,” Tom mutters, guilt seeping into him like it does every time he sees the glum expression on Will’s features. If he was just a little happier, he and Will would be celebrating and on their third date at least by now. Will rushes to reply and Tom’s genuinely taken aback by his answer.  
“No, no. Sorry, I don’t want us to end. I mean, we haven’t even started but I just want to be... a good boyfriend,” Will says and Tom detects insecurity radiating off him. He’s fiddling with buttons on his sleeves and huffing when he stutters as if words are failing him. Tom looks up at him, a hint of a smile on his face at how Will, the embodiment of a warm cookie candle on a winters night, could ever believe he wasn’t the fairytale ideal of a boyfriend.

“You are, you could sit here and tell me I’m a piece of shit and you’d still be the best,” Tom mutters as if that’s a joke yet there’s a hint of a question in there somewhere. As much as Tom hates it, his latest obsession is craving validation which he seems to be letting slip again. Last week it has been his body image but this fixation seems to have morphed into something worse and less superficial. Will stays quiet and Tom’s spur-of-the-moment comment begins to bake. Oh god does Will really think he’s a piece of shit? Is that why they’re growing apart. What if Will hasn’t found someone else but instead he’s just realised Tom isn’t what he wants?

“Tom, I don’t think you’re a piece of shit, I can see that face you make when you’re overthinking,” Will whispers softly and Tom looks away, embarrassed that he was caught out. He chews on his lip before remembering that Joe had forced him to stop ever since Tom had managed to scrape his teeth over the skin so much it bled. Despite the awkward face he’s probably pulling, he forces himself to stop. Will doesn’t seem to have seen it thankfully but Tom feels ashamed anyway.

“Look, it’s been rough for us. Every time we begin to figure something out things go downhill again but I think we can do this, I don’t know. Do you?” Will asks and Tom wants so badly to say yes but he’s scared. He’s so scared that any answer he gives will force Will’s opinion. If he says yes will that make Will feel obliged to stay even if he’s fallen out of love with the idea of them being official? If he says no then he’s breaking Will’s heart if that’s not what he intended to hear. It feels like a double-edged sword and no answer he comes up with seems unbiased. He decides not to answer it at all, that way there’s no unintended pressure and Will can walk out of his life guilt-free.

“I want you in my life, a-and I know right now I-I’m not the best but-,” Tom’s wobbling lip comes back as soon as he opens his mouth and despite the fact he’s frustrated, it’s almost a relief because it's a _normal_ reaction for him to have. Suddenly an avalanche of upset washes over him, leaving goosebumps in its wake. It’s been a few days since he’s last cried and it feels like he’s allowing himself to feel anxious and sad instead of numb. Will reaches over and rubs his arm once before retreating to his normal position.

“Hey, you’re doing great. You’re doing so good. I-I’m just scared I-I’m not enough, I have no idea what I’m doing,” Will says but Tom swears he hears a crack in it. He wipes his blurry vision and looks up, only to see tears beginning to roll down Will’s face too. Will looks to the side, pinching the top of his nose and forcing the tears away. All of a sudden Tom’s pain is shared which he never thought of before. He’s watched Joe come and go stone-faced for days yet here Will is, baring his heart out just like Tom has tried so hard to do.

“Will, i-it’s okay,” Tom sniffles, feeling guilty but also relieved. It’s not just him struggling, it’s not just him feeling not good enough. Tom reaches out, taking Will’s hand and squeezing it to let him know he understands, he _gets_ it. Will wipes tears off his reddened cheeks and tries to smile.  
“Looks like we’re both in the shit, eh?” Will’s gravelly tone rasps as he sniffles and reaches for a tissue. It’s weird but Tom has never felt so calm in his depressed state. Will always seemed bigger than him in every way, stronger, calmer, more rational and unphased. But Will is human and he gets upset and he cries and he needs comforting just like Tom does

For the first time in forever, Tom feels his stomach warm and an instinct to care and love overtakes him. He sits and holds Will’s hand for a while as he collects himself but just when Tom thinks he’s over it, Will almost crumbles into sobs. Tom is quite shocked, he’s never even seen Will that sad before and now he’s sobbing. So even though Tom still isn’t a fan of touching, he invites Will into his space. It’s gross, covered in food and tissues and clutter but Will never minds.

“Hey, come on,” Tom says, patting the bed and Will looks up, his eyes red and glossy and tear stains all down his skin.  
“No, y-you don’t like it. I-It’s fine,” Will says, shaking his head and Tom moves over, guiding Will towards the bed as Will pulls the chair in. They manoeuvre into a weird position where Will is both curled on the chair but with his head on some stacked pillows. Tom begins stroking Will’s hair gently, passing him tissues and wiping tears from his eyes. It’s comforting for both of them. Tom settles into the bed and relishes in feelings sparking inside of him. The pain, the happiness, the guilt, it all mixes into a buzz that eliminates the cold, emptiness that had sunk so deep into him so suddenly. He feels Will’s hair tickle his skin, he smells Will’s aftershave as it hints at his nostrils, he hears Will’s stuttery, wet breaths. Colour is blooming from black and white and Tom’s chasing it, wherever it may lead because they're in this together.

Will’s tears seem to slow once he’s comforted and Tom begins to wonder if he should ask what this is about or not. Will is generally reserved person so he doesn’t want to overstep, especially when Will is in a vulnerable place. He starts thinking up openers. Is a joke too informal? Can he ask outright or would it be better to slowly lead into the topic without shocking Will and closing him off again? It’s like balancing on a tightrope, he feels like one wrong move and Will is bound to brush the whole thing away. Tom can sense that things are slowing down and eventually one of them is going to have to speak. In the end, Tom decides to go with what he would like to hear.

“I’m here for you,” Tom whispers, twisting a piece of Will’s neatly pushed back quiff around his finger and watching it unravel. Seemingly a fitting metaphor for their current state. Will strokes a thumb across Tom’s arm and leans into his touch. It’s a while before he replies but eventually he speaks.  
“I’m really tired,” Will sighs and Tom looks over, assessing his eye bags. They look dark, an almost warm tinted purple that cuts deep into his pale skin, but no different to usual. Maybe his weed has run out, but he went to bed earlier last night than he typically would even he admitted that himself over text this morning.

“I can move over if you want to nap, or the sofa is free,” Tom mutters, pushing through anything he feels and instead focussing on Will. Unpacking emotions after not having many for a while it too much effort for his current state anyway.  
“Don’t mean that kind of tired,” Will breathily chuckles, the air hitting Tom’s skin. He should have understood that but his depression brain is still foggy. What he wants to come out is a long and profound speech full of wisdom... what actually comes out is a small ‘oh’.

Will stays silent but it’s clear he’s not very comfortable being this way in front of Tom, he’s shifting and restless which is extremely out of character. Tom pushes back every single instinct screaming at him to stay quiet, be a listener or he’s going to mess things up like he always does. Eventually, he asks, figuring that Will might be waiting for it but not wanting to bring it up, exactly like Tom is.

“What’s going on? Talk to me about it,” Tom says quietly as more of a suggestion than a command. It seems to be the permission Will waited for as he speaks almost immediately after the words have left Tom’s mouth. Even though it’s heart-breaking, Tom accepts the victory where he can.

“I just feel like I only exist in other people’s lives, you know?” Will says and Tom wishes he had a clue what Will is talking about but he’s coming up blank.  
“I-I... don’t but, I want to,” Tom says and even though it wasn’t his intention, it makes Will giggle. Unfortunately, the smile is over in a short few seconds though.

“The band I took over from Ned, my job used to be Dan’s, my house was from our parents. I don’t even have a family yet I still don’t have anything of my own,” Will explains, hurt lacing through his voice with every syllable. Tom is taken aback that Will is opening up but he can see why he’s upset. He’d never really thought about it like that but he’s in the same position, everything around him is Joe’s.  
“Well that doesn’t matter, that doesn’t mean you’re any less independent. Other people might have given you them but you still have a house, a job and a band. Now you can make them into your own things, separate them from who gave them to you,” Tom advises, quite impressed that he managed to pull that out of somewhere when his only recent thoughts have been when his last shower was and how long it would be socially acceptable to leave it before he has to have another one. Will ponders on the idea for a minute and sighs.

“I don’t want this to be my life. I don’t want to feel like this is all I get because... I’m scared that it is. I’m scared that all I’ll ever be is a failed musician,” Will whispers the last part like he’s ashamed of it and that’s what makes Tom want to cry even more than his own emotions ever have. He moves over and pulls Will onto his bed with the best of his ability. Will helps and shifts himself to lie next to Tom. He presses a kiss to Will’s forehead and cups his face.  
“You will never be failed in my eyes, you’re the most talented musician I’ve ever known. We just need to wait for the world to see it,” Tom says, pulling Will in. Will hesitates at first, not sure if Tom’s okay with the physical touch before letting himself melt into the embrace.

They stay like that for hours, wiping each other's tears and doing their best to reassure each other. At some point, Tom can hear the door go but Joe must know Will’s here as he doesn’t bother checking in, just heads straight into his room. Tom leans down, pressing the first kiss to Will’s lips in weeks and Will’s heavy eyes flutter open as a smile grows on his face.  
“I’ve missed you, I’ve missed this. Texting isn’t the same,” Tom says, his heart beginning to feel the same attachment as he had before. Will links Tom’s fingers with his as he presses a kiss to Tom’s nose which Tom then tilts towards his lips.  
“Me too, baby,” Will whispers, pressing more kisses to Tom’s mouth as he leans forward. Tom feels a calm wash over him, he isn’t sure why but it’s a very welcome emotion. He leans into Will, relishing in the feeling that his skin isn’t crawling anymore.

They watch Netflix for a while, recuperating and trying to take their mind off things. It works for a bit until a heavy scene starts building up, the music turning sombre and the girl on the screen begins to cry. The camera pans over to a blade on the sink and immediately Will scrambles to shut down the tab, his fingers frantically clicking the red X repeatedly until Tom’s home screen picture of Will on stage is the only thing staring back at them. Tom takes a deep breath and Will must hear it in the sudden silence. He leans back on his elbow and studies Tom’s face as he shifts the laptop further down the bed, only using it to illuminate the room.

“You okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t know it had that, I’ve never watched it before,” Will whispers, looking quite frantic. Even though they hadn’t discussed his self-harming tendencies, the occasional subtext of some of the messages he sent to Will suggested towards it being an issue for him. Tom looks down, needing to immediately erase the thought from his mind before it can spread like a plant burying its roots.

“C-Can we do something please? Quickly,” Tom rushes, the shame he would usually feel at demanding something from Will is fast replaced by panic. Will looks around the room, his hair whipping with the force, before focussing on his backpack as a lightbulb appears to go off in his head.  
“I-I have nail polish, how about I paint your nails?” Will asks and Tom rushes to nod as his body curls in and the darkness comes back. Will gets up and begins throwing things out of his bag until he digs it out. He comes back with three bottles.

“Okay, which colour?” Will asks and Tom looks down and shrugs, just wanting Will to do something to stop it. He’s seconds away from pleading, so scared to lose the progress he made.  
“Alright well, I have mint green so I think this sparkly grey will match well,” Will hurries as he shoves the rest on Tom’s nightstand and uncaps the bottle with no care, smudging some all over his fingers. Tom puts his hand out as Will kneels on the floor. It’s shaking but Will doesn’t seem to mind, he just smiles and gently brushes the opaque liquid down the centre of Tom’s middle finger.

It takes a few nails but watching the delicate and repetitive action slowly brings his breathing down and he finds himself engrossed. Every time Will slips up they both let out a little gasp and giggle before Will steals the mistake away from Tom's skin. Once one hand is done Will blows gently onto it and despite Tom assuring him he doesn’t need to, he does it until most of the hand is dry or mildly sticky to touch. Tom studies his nails, holding them towards the screen and watching the glitter flecks catch the light. Will watches on with a curious yet nervous face, almost as if he’s not sure if it’s a good decision to have done them or not.

“Looks great,” Tom compliments and when he looks over Will is showing the most beautiful dimpled grin.  
“Didn’t know if you’d like it, we’ve never talked about it,” Will says, screwing on the cap. Tom has always noticed recently that whenever Will came round his nails would be painted a different colour but he didn’t know if that was something important or not.  
“I’ve not had them done since my emo phase but I like it. I bite them too much to make it worth doing them though,” Tom says quietly, realising that the only times he’s ever painted his nails have been in depressive episodes. It’s sad to think something so pretty seems to be linked to such misery.

“They look beautiful on you, now we match,” Will says excitedly, holding his hand out next to Tom’s and wiggling his fingers. Tom looks down at their overlapping hands and then up at Will’s excited grin and the L-word hints at the back of his mind. They’re both too fragile for Tom to drop that bombshell on their relationship right now but he commits it to memory, wanting to escape to this moment any time the darkness tries to clutch its greedy hands at his heart. Tom interlaces their fingers and kisses the back of Will’s hand.

“I love the colour, will you do the other hand?” Tom asks, delighting at the joy it brings Will to know Tom likes it enough to take it even further than just a distraction. Will shuffles and uncaps the bottle again, Tom watches as his tongue pokes out and he hesitantly strokes the colour down Tom’s chewed up nails. If anything could have reminded him what it’s like to feel happy, it’s this. No big romantic gestures or knight in shining armour, just two imperfect boys masquerading as men, for once, not pretending to know what they're doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you anyone who is still reading this mess, I'd appreciate if you could let me know as I'm just curious if anyone has got this far. I hope you're all safe, see you in another two weeks!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some emotions and aome fluffiness because the world is pretty dark at the minute and Tom and Will deserve a break!
> 
> This isn't beta'd or anything as I am a one man show so please let me know of any mistakes!
> 
> Tumblr- mclennondreams

One thing that ends up surprising Tom is that Will stays. It seems pretty obvious considering they’re boyfriends now but every time Tom thinks Will is bound to walk out of the door any minute and never dare to utter Tom’s name again, he doesn’t. No matter how mad Tom is over the most nonsensical of things, how much he cries when thee pain gets too much, how many moods he goes through, Will takes it all in his stride once they have the rhythm down.

So on his first decent day in weeks, Tom decides to ask Joe if they can go shopping. To Joe’s credit, he manages to hide his initial shock fairly well with only a brief choke on air and a minute raise of his eyebrows.  
“Shopping?... why?” Joe replies, his eyes squinted and a hint of nervousness dawning on his face. It’s a bit weird, Tom expected anger or excitement. Then again, he hasn’t left the house for a purpose since this all began so maybe it’s a little concerning.

“I just want to get Will something, for being a good boyfriend,” Tom says with a hint of a smile at even the mention of his name. Thinking about Will’s face when he receives a gift could keep him going even on the darkest of days. The way his dimples get deeper and fondness radiates from him. Even though he’s getting better at expressing himself around Tom, he still struggles to show complete happiness. He holds it back into a breathy giggle and barely noticeable fidgeting. Joe thinks for a second from where he’s stood at the door, he looks caught off guard.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve just got to clean up in the kitchen but we can go,” Joe says although he doesn’t seem pleased about the development. Tom thinks it’s a pretty big step, if the purpose of the trip wasn’t for Will’s present, he’d definitely be texting him about it. Tom gives himself time to get up, he hasn’t showered in... a while but any progress on making it out the house is better than that anyway. Still, he doesn’t want to overdo it and land himself straight back into a panic due to his ever-changing mood. For once though, Tom feels motivated and he hasn’t felt this way in so long, even before Will came along. But his attraction to Will keeps steadily increasing again and with it must come the motivation to do right by him. Not that he’s doing anything ground-breaking but Tom wants to use a good day to bring happiness for both of them instead of Will just getting to revel in Tom’s joy.

He is just wresting a t-shirt over his shoulders by the time Joe reappears in the doorway and pulls it down for him.  
“Ready?” Tom asks as he pops his head through the hole but is only met with a sad-looking and guilty brother. He didn’t think his mood could change that fast, even with the experience he’s gained but apparently it’s still a bit temperamental. Tom’s stomach drop at the wobbling lip of his brother, has something happened? Did he say something bad? Maybe Joe wanted a gift too?

“Did I do something wrong?” Tom blurts out, unable to keep his thoughts at bay like he usually would and a brief smile returns to Joe’s face.  
“No and you’ve got to stop thinking like that,” Joe reprimands, carding a hand through Tom’s greasy hair. He stopped making his joking comment about it being greasy when Tom lost the motivation to bother cleaning himself.

“You’re being weird though, is it because I want to go out?” Tom says from where he’s sat on the edge of his bed. Joe is chewing his cheek, that’s never good. That’s his worrying sign, he used to do it when Tom asked where babies came from or why he wasn’t answering his phone.  
“No, I’m happy you want to go out and you even got dressed, that’s great,” Joe says and even though some expression of joy should follow, it doesn’t. For once, Tom isn’t acting like the sad one anymore.  
“Somethings wrong,” Tom says as he looks up to where Joe is towering over him. Joe stays silent but his eyes gloss over, he pulls Tom’s shoulders in.  
“God I feel like you’re a little boy again. I haven’t had to do this since you were small,” Joe mutters and Tom immediately begins to worry, the usual numb feeling is suddenly stirring into an intense nervousness.

“Joe, just tell me,” Tom rushes, not appreciating the dramatics. Usually, he’d be the one doing this but it’s not so fun on the receiving end.  
“I’m sorry Tommy b-but we, uh, don’t have the money to go shopping,” Joe whispers and guilt wraps Tom up in a blanket made of bricks. Tom suddenly feels awful for ever suggesting it because of course, they wouldn’t have the money since Tom’s idiot self decided to fall into a depression right when he was starting to earn his living. Joe is paying for everything and Tom hasn’t even bothered to stream in weeks, he’s probably lost half his following by his point which throws away any immediate income he can make from that.

“Joe, why didn’t you say?” Tom mutters, pulling Joe in to let him know that it’s okay. He doesn’t have to apologise for it, it’s all Tom’s fault anyway.  
“You had too much to worry about and now you’re feeling better, I didn’t want to make it worse again,” Joe says and Tom stands up, pulling Joe in for a proper hug. He should never have had to carry the entire weight of responsibility in the first place and now Tom messed up the only chance he had of relieving Joe of some of it.

“I’ll go back to the library, it’s not much but-“ he can’t even finish his sentence before Joe is pulling away and squeezing his arm in a stern fist.  
“No, you won’t go blaming this on yourself or taking things on again. We’ll be alright. I’ll pick up the extra shifts I dropped, that should be enough,” Joe says and Tom sighs, Joe should never have carried all this alone, even if Tom couldn’t have helped physically, he should have been there to talk to if nothing else.

“I wish you’d have told me, you carry too much,” Tom mutters and Joe quirks an eyebrow up at him as if to say ‘look who’s talking’.  
“I know, I know,” Tom says, pulling Joe in and burying his face into his neck. It smells like home comforts and the blanket he used to carry around as a toddler.  
“I love you,” Tom says and Joe’s shoulders jolt a bit from where a stray tear slips out.  
“I love you too, I’m sorry we can’t go shopping but I’m proud of you for getting up and dressed,” Joe says, patting Tom on the back. They pull apart and the look on Joe’s face makes Tom’s heart ache.

“I’m serious about the library, can you ask if there are any positions still there?” Tom says and Joe shakes his head slowly, his tired eyes squinting and glimmering in the sunlight.  
“Money will come and go, I’m not letting you put yourself back into the state you were in, I’ll work it out. I always do,” Joe says, kissing Tom’s forehead and ruffling his hair, “maybe you can make Will something, I’ve started clearing out the storage boxes so you might find something there.” Joe recommends as he leaves the room rubbing his eyes. Tom sighs and plops down on the mattress, shutting his eyes and willing away the upset that comes.

A few minutes later, Joe is hauling two overflowing boxes into his room. It’s already messy enough so the boxes basically blend into the space.  
“There’s a lot of paper and card in this one,” Joe says as he clears Tom’s old pyjamas out of the way and crouches down as he begins sorting through it. He rifles out thick chunks of plain paper and a couple of sheets of black and coloured card. Tom shoves anything that he could use on his bed, the only space that’s not entirely encompassed in clothes, food boxes or cups. They start a conveyor belt of recycling, rubbish and possible craft materials.

Joe finishes the first box, tossing any scrap paper and card into the pile. Tom starts on the second box, reaching down to haul out piles of old paperwork but he feels something at the bottom. He reaches in, face squishing up as he yanks out a red piece of paper with pompoms half hanging off it. Joe looks over at Tom’s struggling noises and smiles when the artwork pops out.

“God, I forgot about that,” Joe says, taking it and opening it up. It’s been creased a lot and Tom’s surprised it didn’t rip when pulled out from all that weight. Tom leans over to see a terribly drawn picture of a flower.  
“To Joe, happy fathers day love Tom and... what does that say?” Tom squints and Joe brings the paper closer to his face.  
“I’ve got no idea, probably one of your friends from the park,” Joe shrugs but he’s beaming at the mess of crayon and card.

“You gave this to me after you did a craft day at school for fathers day. You’d asked mum who you should make it for and she didn’t understand what you were doing so she just told you to draw a flower. So you did and you gave it to me,” Joe recounts the story with a melancholy nostalgia, tracing his finger over the crayon. Tom looks up at him, the love and memories whizzing past in his eyes as he studies the card. Tom wishes he could remember something that is clearly so important to Joe, just another thing his stupid depression robbed him of.

“Mum was annoyed because you were covered in glue when you came home but you were so excited because it had pompoms on it and nobody else’s did,” Joe laughs, shaking his head as he flicks one of the fluffy balls and closes it.  
“That’s so cute,” Tom says, taking the card and looking over it, “what were they supposed to be?” he asks, delicately placing the pompom back on the paper from where it was dangling. There was barely any glue left on it, most of it either smeared around the edge or, most likely, coated on his arms and clothes.

“Cherries, your favourite. Look, there’s the stalk and the red pompoms,” Joe says, dragging his finger along the green scribble. Tom laughs, amazed that he was so pleased with it when now he can barely even tell what it was supposed to be. He chucks it on the recycling pile.

“Hey, woah, that’s going in the family storage,” Joe says, picking it up gently and setting it down next to him.  
“Really?” Tom scoffs and Joe looks offended he could ever think otherwise.  
“Of course, I’ve got everything I have of us in there,” Joe says like it’s common knowledge. Tom is taken aback, he knew the necklace and a few other bits around the house were there for sentimental reasons but he had no idea Joe kept a lot of Tom’s childhood things.

“I didn’t know you had that sort of stuff?” Tom says, suddenly interested to know what Joe has kept, maybe there’s actually some things he remembers in it.  
“It’s not much, just some school pictures and old artworks. I think I’ve got some teddies and your blanket,” Joe says and Tom’s interest suddenly peaks at the idea of his home comforts still being around.  
“My blanket! I wanna see, I thought that was left with mum,” Tom says and Joe laughs.  
“Of course not, you were a stroppy teen when we moved so I bought it to tease you. I’m still sorting through all that anyway so we should get this done first,” Joe says, discarding another bunch of old paperwork. Tom agrees, a warm fuzzy feeling building up at the fact that he still has some childhood things and that Joe took the time to save them.

A few hours later Joe had managed to drag out the boxes and ditch the recycling in both their bins and their neighbours. Tom is looking out over the piles of paper, he’s no artist so that idea is out of the window. He considers a box of some sort but he’s not got anything it put inside of it. Joe stands next to him, hands on his hips, sleeves rolled up and cheeks red.

“You got any ideas?” Tom asks from where he’s sat on the bed, surveying the organised chaos that has been switched to the floor.  
“Not a clue, sorry,” Joe shrugs, running a hand through his hair and huffing out his exhaustion of heavy lifting.  
“I’ll figure something out,” Tom sighs, grabbing his phone and heading to google to find DIY gifts.

“I’m going to make lunch, what do you want?” Joe says, pausing at the door. Tom’s response is automatic, as it is most days to any type of food-related question.  
“Nothing thanks.” He doesn’t even look up from his phone. Tom doesn’t notice anything is wrong until Joe sighs and turns around to face him.  
“Tommy, I said what do you want,” Joe repeats, this time a bit more stern and Tom rolls his eyes.  
“Whatever you’re having,” Tom comments and that seems to be a good enough answer. He gets to work, trying to build a plan.

Two hours and a whirlwind of cut-up paper later and Tom finally has a decent gift. He picks it up, moving it away from the mess and tilting it towards the light. He’d taken four of the places that meant the most to them and found them in an old book of London maps Joe had lying around from when he was deciding where to live. He’d enlisted Joe’s steady hand to cut them into hearts and glue them onto the paper. The decoration was no childhood fathers day card with cherry pompoms but for the person who’d laid in bed for weeks with severe depression, Tom thought it wasn’t half bad.

The bar they met, the house they had their first kiss (he had to ask Dan about that one), the restaurant they had their first date and the park that Will asked him to officially be his boyfriend were all pinpointed on the poster along with the dates. Despite his searching, he can’t seem to find the frame he knows is in the house somewhere so instead, he decides he’ll wrap it up with some red paper once he’s shown Joe the final product. He’s excited, he’s not done anything crafty since he was a child. But he’s proud of it, it looks like he still is a child as it’s covered in glue smears but he knows Will will appreciate the thought, even if it’s not as nice as the canvases he has on his wall.

Tom plods into the living room, art in hand, only to find Joe wiping tears away on the sofa. Tom hesitantly makes his way over, not sure what’s going on.  
“Joe? Everything okay?” Tom asks, a little on edge given what they’d discussed earlier. Joe clearly hadn’t heard him coming as his head whips up and his expression is suddenly blank.  
“Yeah, fine. Did you finish your art thing?” Joe asks, using that time to wipe his tears. Tom discards Will’s art on the side and sits down next to Joe, curling into him.

“Is it the money thing?” Tom asks and Joe seems puzzled for a second before he shakes his head with a laugh.  
“No, no. I was cleaning out the box and I found some old photos of... _him_ ,” Joe stutters and Tom curls up more, looping his arms around his brother's shoulders. At first, he isn’t sure what to say but he’s curious so he can’t help but ask the least helpful question.  
“You miss him?” Tom whispers and a few tears drip down Joe’s cheek as he nods. Tom knows the feeling of not wanting to say it out loud, not wanting to admit your heart longs for someone who doesn’t care about you.

“I m-miss the way he cared. He’d be so cold to others but w-with me he was kind,” Joe explains, drawing in big breaths. Tom rubs his arm and lies his head on Joe’s shoulder.  
“He was good with you a-and the kids around him a-and I had spent so long with him that I believed we’d have our own, I planned to. If we were still together we’d probably h-have had our first one now,” Joe lists, his voice cracking and Tom desperately wants to hunt down this guy and kick him until he bleeds for doing this to Joe.  
“You can still have one, you don’t need him,” Tom says and Joe scoffs, reaching for a tissue and dabbing his eyes. Judging by the growing pile in the bin, he’s been here a while.

“Tommy, we have no money, I have no boyfriend and we live in a 2 bedroom flat,” Joe lists and Tom wishes things were different. He always believed they deserved better than this but now he knows it. He pulls Joe in, wishing desperately that he could offer any sort of solution or hope that things will change in the near future. Instead, he tells Joe what he knows to be true even if he can’t make it true right now.  
“You’ll be a dad one day. And you’re going to be the best dad ever,” Tom compliments and Joe smiles fondly at the idea, ruffling Tom’s hair.  
“Had a lot of practice at least,” he remarks, the pain fading for a moment before he continues.

“So come on then, let’s see your masterpiece,” Joe says as he sits up and Tom knows he can’t do that to him. Rubbing his face in the fact that he has a relationship yet Joe doesn’t makes him feel like he’s kicking Joe while he’s down. Tom looks over at the paper before shrugging and playing it off.  
“Oh, I don’t like it. I think I might make something else,” Tom says shyly, pulling a face that says he’s not a fan of his work but Joe doesn’t seem phased.  
“I’m sure he’ll love it, you’re too sweet,” Joe says, pulling Tom in and turning the TV on. Tom knows that that means it’s Joe’s comfort time now and he’s all too happy to provide it. Joe must have been waiting for one of Tom’s good days so that he could let some of that pent up sadness out and even though it hurts, Tom knows that Joe would come to him if he really needed to.  
“I made you a sandwich,” Joe says and no matter how much Tom wants to deny it, he knows Joe will pester until he has it so he begrudgingly gets up and drags it out from the fridge.

By the time Will comes round, it’s getting into the afternoon which is good because Tom knows that means he got a lot of sleep that morning. Will comes in using the spare key and immediately heads to Tom’s room without even checking where he is. Tom is cleaning when Will comes in, a bin bag held in one fist and a crumpled up bank letter in the other.  
“Hey ba- oh,” Will’s eyebrows raise as he stands frozen in the door. Tom looks over, brushing his hair back and smiling.  
“Hello, how are you?” Tom asks, walking over and kissing Will on the lips briefly.

“Uh, good. Everything okay?” Will asks as he steps in and shuts the door behind him. Tom tries to wait at least 2 seconds after Will has his foot in the room but he can’t.  
“Yeah, I made you a present today,” Tom says and Will smiles, leaving his hand out for if Tom wants to take it. For the first time in a while, he does. Tom delights at the sight of his chipped nail polish and Will’s newly painted glittery black that he’d asked Tom about last night. He pulls Will over to the nightstand and picks up the gift.

“Here,” Tom says as he passes the paper over. Will briefly disconnects their hands to peel off the tape and flip over the paper. Tom watches his reaction, eager for any sign of him not liking it or trying to fake happiness. But there isn’t. In fact, it’s very much the opposite. Will’s face grows fast into a grin and Tom swears those are tears forming in his eyes.  
“Baby, it’s beautiful thank you. I-I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” Will says humbly, tracing his fingers over the map and reading the notes Tom left on it.  
“You were there for me always, “ Tom says as Will looks towards him like he'd just given him the world on a silver platter.

“If anyone deserves presents it’s you, my strong, beautiful, brave man,” Will says, gently putting the paper down on the bed and opening his arms in an offer. Usually, Tom would sit on the bed or grab his phone, a non-verbal hint that he isn’t ready for touch but he hugs Will, and tightly at that. He can smell the outdoors on his thick jacket. That soft, homely scent that grounds him and reminds him solely of Will. Will taps his cheek lightly and Tom nods, not wanting to ruin their tender moment. Will leans down, pressing lots of delicate kisses to Tom’s reddened cheeks.

“I’ve missed this,” Tom whispers, moving his head sideways so he can squish himself tighter to Will.  
“Does that mean you’re feeling good today?” Will asks hesitantly, he’s clearly unsure if that’s an okay thing to ask but Tom smiles. Bless Will for always being cautious.  
“Yeah, I feel like I’m doing alright today,” Tom answers honestly. He feels like a part of him has slotted back into place. He doesn’t know why or how long it will stay there, but there’s a little bit of comfort attached to his mood and Tom is going to enjoy it as best as he can.

“I’m glad to hear it, want some help tidying?” Will says, pulling his head away a bit so that they’re still connected but he can see Tom’s face, he knows it’s so Will can check for any signs of discomfort.  
“Yeah, if that’s okay?” Tom responds, knowing that his boyfriend didn’t exactly come around to clean. Will looks like he couldn’t be happier though, a smile breaking onto his face as he nods.  
“Of course, what am I doing?” Will asks, rolling the sleeves of his jumper up. If Tom weren’t getting out of such a fragile emotional state, he probably would have jumped Will then and there. The veins in his thick arms and the way his broad shoulders seem to stretch is intoxicating. Seriously, how is he so beautiful?

“I, uh, the paper. Could you stack the paper into those trays?” Tom says dumbfounded, still trying to collect his thoughts after Will’s attractiveness hits him like a truck. He forgot how intense having feelings is.  
“Yeah, sure babe,” Will says, moving to the corner and flicking pieces of paper into his hands with just his fingertips. Tom watches for a second before remembering he was collecting rubbish and that’s probably what he should still be doing.

He and Will gradually tidy the room until the last kitchen water bottle run is done. They flop down on the bed as he looks over at Will, the beauty of their domesticity overwhelming him.  
“You are so beautiful,” Tom pants, turning to his side and placing an arm along Will’s middle.  
“Covered in dirt and sweat?” Will jokes, taking a drink from Tom’s ice water glass.  
“I mean it, I-I haven’t been able to appreciate it recently but I’m so lucky,” Tom says in disbelief, thinking about all the nights Will sat with him and sang to him and even just lay in silence for hours. Whatever Tom needed, he was only too happy to provide.

“You’re cute but I’m the lucky one, I mean I have the most beautiful, kind, artistic man in my arms,” Will says quietly, pulling Tom in and planting a kiss on his nose.  
“Artistic? Really? I mean the rest was a stretch but that one,” Tom jokes and Will laughs, a big booming laugh that lights up his entire being and Tom feels like he could melt.  
“Your present, very artsy. Most people buy a teddy bear or chocolate but you took the time to make me something,” Will says and Tom’s face falls a little upon remembering why he had to make something.

“Well, I-I wanted to buy you something but we don’t exactly have any money right now,” Tom awkwardly explains and Will rushes to correct himself, stuttering over his words.  
“No, no I love it. I like how you made it personal,” Will beams, brushing Tom’s hair from his face and kissing his forehead.  
“I tried, I haven’t done crafts since I was a kid. Joe found one of my old one's today, a fathers day card I made him when I was little,” Tom scoffs fondly and Will coos, his face turning into an expression that resembles a puppy.  
“Aww, baby Tom. I bet you were so cute,” Will pouts and Tom leans forward, kissing his lips just to stop him being so adorable. Will kisses back, giggling as he squeezes Tom’s hips.

“Joe’s going through the photos so I’ll get him to find some tomorrow. I was a handful, that’s about all I remember,” Tom tries to think up much but he can’t think past 10 years old and even then there are only a few peppered memories leading him to his teens.  
“I look forward to that. Is Joe out?” Will asks and Tom shakes his head, feeling a brief pain wash over him at how he gets to enjoy this happiness and love and Joe is in there upset and alone.

“No, just in his room. I would introduce you but he’s had a bit of a rough day today,” Tom says and Will’s brows furrow like they do when he’s concerned.  
“Oh no, what happened?” Will asks and Tom isn’t exactly sure how much he should say so he stays vague, not wanting to spill Joe’s emotions to someone Joe hasn’t met yet.  
“Just old memories and relationships, don’t want to rub us in his face when he’s feeling lonely,” Tom says and Will sighs sadly like he knows the feeling.

“Yeah, I can imagine,” Will says even though his reaction says he can do more than just ‘imagine’ it. He pulls Tom closer and kisses his head slowly, leaving his lips there for a few seconds. If Tom wasn’t as finely tuned in the art of Will’s subtle body responses as he is, he would have missed it but Tom knows that squeeze was ‘I hope you’re never lonely’. Tom buries his face in Will’s shoulder and allows himself to be truly held for the first time in ages. He probably stinks, his hair is greasy and his bed is dirty but Will is holding him desperately at even the thought of him being lonely. He definitely struck the jackpot here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope someone enjoys this! I promise I do have a plot for this fic but I'm trying to not rush it! There's a massive reveal coming soon though so hopefully you all should enjoy that!
> 
> Tumblr- mclennondreams


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been really struggling a lot but I want you guys to know I haven't forgotten about this fic! I will still try and stick to my 2 week schedule but recently has just been rough. Hope everyone is okay, here is one of the big reveals!

“I’m thinking of going back to the library,” Tom mutters groggily to Will as they’re laid on the bed the next morning. Tom thinks if he says it in a more casual voice it won’t show Will that he’d been thinking about it for hours and it seems to have worked. Will had spent the night so they could both enjoy Tom’s good day which seemed like a daunting decision at first but he can see now that he was worried about nothing apart from the fact he needs to get a bigger bed. Although it was incredibly sweet the way Will clung to him just to avoid slipping off with half the duvet.

“Are you sure?” Will asks, concerned but he’s attempting to hide it judging by the emotionless expression. His eyes flicker over Tom’s face but the rhythmic breath hitting his skin says that Will isn’t too shocked.  
“I don’t know yet, I just want to try and get back to normal,” Tom mutters, looking down and wondering if he even knows what normal is any more. His old version of normal would have been without Will and that is certainly not a normal he ever wants now. Will taps his fingers on Tom’s cheek and Tom nods, wanting the warmth and comfort to keep him positive. Will presses a kiss there, his lips leaving a wet print that he then rubs off with his thumb.  
“If that’s what you want, I’m with you,” Will says and a grin spreads its way across Tom’s face. He’ll never get over being supported wholeheartedly, it gives him butterflies every time Will reminds him that they’re a team.

“Thank you,” Tom replies, turning and kissing Will softly. It feels like a breath of fresh air to be looking towards the light of the tunnel he’d been stuck in. Will’s lips get softer by the day and Tom’s endlessly thankful for the cold weather making him wear vaseline. As their lips meet he can hear Joe rustling around in the next room. It reminds him of something he’d completely forgotten about.  
“I should probably introduce you to Joe since you’re my boyfriend and all,” Tom breathily laughs, not believing something that big could slip from his mind. He finds it crazy that they haven’t met given how often Will’s been showing up recently.

“Oh... okay wow, get me get showered first, I don’t wanna do the ‘meet the parents’ thing looking like this,” Will gestures to his hair and his outfit, or lack thereof, and Tom rolls his eyes.  
“It’s not meeting the parents, it’s just Joe,” Tom shrugs, not seeing the big deal. Will seems nervous about it though so he stifles the whine when Will gets up and steals back some of the clothes Tom borrowed. There’s a rush of cold air under the duvet now Will’s gone and Tom doesn’t like it. He shuffles the warmth around him and curls up, seeking Will's heat in his absence.

“I know but he’s a big deal to you, I want to do it right,” Will says, the ripped Green Day shirt and blue jeans hanging over his arm as he tries to rub the creases out. It’s a meaningless task but Tom notices it lingering in his mind, a snapshot of how far they’d suddenly come in this relationship. He smiles as he places his head on the pillow, this is what settling down is supposed to feel like.

“I didn’t do that with Ned or Dan,” Tom responds without really thinking about the stories behind it and Will laughs.  
“Given what happened there wasn’t really time, plus you weren’t my boyfriend then,” Will refutes and Tom momentarily forgets the circumstances he met Ned under. Either that or he buries it deep into his repressed memories so he never has to think about it again.  
“Okay, fair point,” Tom sighs, pulling a face and Will shakes his head.  
“It was cute and very flattering that you wanted me so bad,” Will says, pressing a kiss on Tom’s lips before leaving the room. A few minutes later Tom hears the shower go and Will’s playlist muffled through the wall. It's always his Tom playlist and they still add to it every few days. Tom brings up his phone and logs in to Will’s account, he adds a few songs and puts them in the queue.

“Tommy,” Joe’s muffled voice comes from next door and Tom gets up begrudgingly. He shuffles out of his blankets and plods into the other room, not happy that he won’t get to enjoy newly showered Will.  
“Yeah, what’s up?” Tom asks, yawning as he rubs his eyes. He needs to get used to getting up when he wakes up and not just lying still until the next nap but, hey, one step at a time.  
“Got some of your old stuff here that you wanted to see,” Joe says, presenting him with a blanket and a teddy. Tom’s eyes go wide and a smile breaks out onto his face as he snatches them from Joe.

“I used to love these!” He exclaims, a bunch of memories flooding back into his brain when he smells the soft fabric that reminds him of his old room. Even though they’re torn up and dirty, they still look exactly how Tom remembers them looking. He bundles them in his arms and sits down opposite Joe and the boxes sprawled on the floor.

“You still look like a little boy when you hold them like that,” Joe smiles, ruffling his hair and then the teddy bears. Tom laughs, he remembers Joe giving up his toys whenever they went anywhere so that he could carry the ones Tom couldn’t, the bear was one of them. It’s crazy to think how fast Joe had to grow up. He probably didn’t even have any toys, especially not now. Tom waits for Will to finish showering by helping Joe sort through artworks and put them in folders so they take up less space. No matter how many Tom insists they throw away, Joe still makes tom glue them back together and put them with the rest.

Once they’ve sorted through 2 folders, Joe grabs the smaller piles of pictures. The first few are just school portraits of him smiling, he places a couple aside to show Will when he’s dressed. Then there’s some photos of him and Joe, one of Joe spinning him on a roundabout he's way too old to fit on, one of Joe holding his hand. They all look like they’ve been taken on a vintage camera and Tom is about to ask if Joe still has whatever device these were taken on when he flips another image over and suddenly his whole world freezes.

There’s a photo there of him and Will.

Tom would recognise that smile anywhere. Will’s face hadn’t really changed in any way. His hair was in a smaller quiff but he still had those beaming blue eyes.  
“O-Oh my god,” Tom whispers, his hands shaking. He frantically rifles through his memories but he keeps coming up blank, he has no memory of ever meeting Will before. Joe looks up at the sudden mood change, his expression quickly switching when he sees that Tom has gone completely pale.  
“Tom, what’s wrong?” Joe rushes and that kick-starts Tom, he flicks through picture after picture of him playing, most of them with Will. How does he not remember this? How was he friends with Will? They didn’t go to the same school or live near each other.

“TOM?” Joe shouts, snatching the pictures from his trembling hands and looking through them.  
“These are just pictures of you and... eurgh,” Joe trails off, his expression morphing into anger before both of the boys look at each other together in shock. They speak at the same time.

“Do you know him?-“  
“Wait, why are you upset?-“

“Joe, how do you know who’s in that picture?” Tom repeats, his heart racing in his chest. There is no way Joe could know Will, they’ve never met before. And the way Joe phrased it not only made him sound like he knew Will but also that he didn’t _like_ Will.  
“He was related to... him,” Joe says, his fingers instinctively going to his ring necklace. Oh god oh god oh god.  
“Who was he related to?” Tom grits out, terrified yet he somehow feels like everything is slotting into place. Joe doesn’t answer, he’s lost in his memories but now is not the time.

“Joe, why do you never say his name?” Tom insists and Joe turns away, not wanting to face him or the questions.  
“We made a pact not to say each other's names again, made it easier to move on. Why are you questioning me, do you know this kid?” Joe asks and Tom can’t be bothered to answer that right now, even if he wanted to, the words wouldn’t come out. There are more pressing matters at hand. He has a feeling, a gut feeling that he knows what’s happened. There’s only one person related to Will that he knows could be around Joe’s age.

“Was his name Ned?” Tom practically whimpers upon realising that the boy who destroyed his entire family, broke his brother’s heart and left his mental health in pieces has been sending him texts on a fucking group chat. Joe’s face tells him all he needs to know as his eyes whip up and widen.  
“H-How do you know his name?” Joe asks as the tension in the room rises. Tom wants to scream, how could this happen to him. All he can bear to do is show Joe what has happened without words.

“Will,” Tom shouts, his face blank as he hears Will’s footsteps slowly come closer until he opens the door. He watches Joe’s face and it almost feels like slow motion the way his head tilts upwards, starting confused until he lands on Will’s face. It morphs into a mic of pure shock and horror.  
“Ned?!” Joe practically pleads for it not to be him. If now were a better moment, he would make a comment about how he’s definitely made that mistake before.  
“His brother,” Tom replies as he and Joe stare at each other. Will is no doubt confused at what’s going on but Tom has tuned him out.

“Tom, please tell me he’s not your... tell me you h-haven’t,” Joe stutters, tears beginning to drip down his face, they turn into streams when Tom nods. He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to see Will. He’s talking to him but it all seems foggy and all Tom can hear is his own heartbeat in his chest.  
“Tom, w-what’s going on?” Will says upon seeing both of them sobbing on the floor. Tom takes a breath and grabs some pictures, shakily standing up, leaving the room and closing the door. Tom hands one of them as children to Will and his face drops.

“B-But this is us? How i-is this us?” Will asks, flicking through the pictures as Tom hands them over.  
“Ned and Joe were engaged,” Tom says, still in disbelief that that’s even possible. In a world full of billions, how did he and Will end up together when their families were destroyed by each other.  
“But that’s not possible? Ned has only been engaged once and that was to a guy called Jay- oh,” Will seems to realise something and Tom prompts him to share.  
“He didn’t mean Jay as in the name, he meant the letter, J for Joe,” Will takes a breath in, running a palm over his face. It hits them both at the same time, these pictures aren’t some laughable coincidence or a funny story to tell on their wedding day. These are evidence of a cheating, ruined, almost marriage of their brothers.

“Jesus Christ, fuck,” Tom blurts as he leans against the wall, heart hammering in his chest.  
“I-I had no idea, how did this happen? How did we find each other?” Will says and Tom tries to think. He traces them back, trying to find a sign until he stumbles on the most obvious one of the first time he met Will. He went to go see the band but why, he hadn’t left the house in months at that point. What had drawn him to go to a gig he had no interest in? Then it clicks, Joe told him to go and see Fleshlight.

“Joe told me about the band, sent me to go and see you. H-He said he wanted to see i-if it was still the same b-but he never ended up going back. Said he got cheated on there,” Tom realises that everything is clicking into place.

“Wow, uh... okay. This is a lot,” Will chuckles breathily, running his hand through his frizzy hair. Tom looks over to him, suddenly nervous about everything again. Where do they stand now? Not only do their brothers know each other, they knew each other too. Tom hesitantly steps forward, hoping Will might hold him and comfort him but his arms stay closed. Tom reaches out, trailing his fingers along Will’s arms but Will gives him a sympathetic smile.

“I think I should go, we’ve both got family stuff to sort out,” Will says and Tom suddenly feels like this was the earth-shattering rejection he’d been waiting for ever since he’d known Will. All it took was one stupid photograph. Tom’s heart goes from hammering to almost stopping at a dizzying rate, the world is going fuzzy and Tom is doing his best not to cry.  
“Yeah, probably best,” Tom replies, withdrawing his body and showing Will out of the door. It feels like hours watching Will’s back, knowing that they’re departing on uncertain terms. The second the door clicks shut Tom rests his sweating head against it to stop everything spinning.

He knows he has to go and talk to Joe but it’s still overwhelming, he’s torn between desperately wanting Will and hating him for what his family did. He knows it’s not Will’s fault, they were both children but a new rage bubbles up in him when he thinks of Ned and the scariest part is wondering if that rage will extend to Will. He stands up straight, lip wobbling and head spinning as he makes his way back to Joe, hoping at least someone can comfort him. He plods in to find Joe still staring at the pictures, his cheeks flushed and his fists clenched.

“Everything okay?” Tom asks even though that seems like a ridiculous question. He doesn’t know what more to say.  
“Well, my brother is dating my cheating ex-fiance’s brother and has been for months so... surprisingly no,” Joe snaps, shoving down a pile of papers and placing his head in his hands. Tom realises the chance of comfort is narrowly slipping through his fingers.  
“Joe, I had no idea,” Tom whispers, awkwardly leaning on the wall to support his shaking knees.  
“I just wish you’d told me more, then we wouldn’t be in this mess. I thought you met him in the crowd of that gig or something. If I'd have known you'd make the exact mistake I did I would have never...” Joe sighs and pain clouds Tom’s body like a fog, creeping into every inch of him. He curls in, just wanting to go and hide under blankets that smell like Will.  
“You never told me anything about Ned either,” Tom mutters and Joe flinches at his name.

“Don’t say that name,” Joe scolds and Tom nods, his wobbling lip becoming more pronounced. Joe sighs squeezing his eyes shut and curling his fingers, his white knuckles cracking.  
“Is he gone?” Joe asks, looking up hopefully at Tom. He nods, not able to say the words in case it means more than him leaving for a day.  
“Okay good, at least they’re out of our lives now... again,” Joe practically spits it with anger and Tom’s head shoots towards him. That can’t be what happened. That isn’t the result of this. Will is still in his life, he has to be.

“I-I’m still with Will, he’s still my boyfriend,” Tom says and Joe looks up at him, a confused expression on his face. He looks hurt, like he’s wondering how Tom could ever speak such awful things.  
“Tom, you aren’t going anywhere near that family ever again. The fact you even saw them, let alone slept under their roof-... they’re trouble and trust me, you are not getting involved,” Joe angrily demands and Tom suddenly feels like a kid again. It’s been a while yet it took mere seconds to bring it all back.  
“He’s my boyfriend, you can’t do that!” Tom retorts like a teenager, standing up straight and gritting his teeth. Joe gets up quickly, using everything he can to tower over him.

“I can and I will, there will never be a Kelly under this roof again, do you hear me. You can forget it, they’re maniacs and I won’t allow them to ruin you too,” Joe says, making sure he uses every tactic he can to get his message across.  
“Will’s not like that,” Tom whimpers, not even sure if he knows what Will is like anymore.  
“Is he not? What about when he got you doing BDSM on a first date? And I know he’s been coming over here every day probably hoping to get off. Sick fucks, can’t even leave a depressed kid alone,” Joe rants, his face growing redder with every passing word. Tom wants to argue back but he’s never seen Joe this angry, it’s scary.

“I’m not a kid! Will has been nothing but good to me a-and I love him,” Tom accidentally blurts out before realising what he’s said and shutting up. Joe looks over and rolls his eyes, laughing and shaking his head.  
“Tom, you said you love a guy you’ve known for a few months... you’re a kid. And he doesn’t care about you. He’ll make you think that but it’s only a matter of time before he gets bored and moves on to some other naive bastard. Trust me, I was one of them,” Joe says, huffing down on the stool by the window. Tom tries to say a word but Joe shoots him a glaring stare almost daring him to say something. Tom just stands there silently instead, tears welling in his eyes before leaving the room. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do or how he’s going to deal with this but the only thing he knows is that he needs to get out of here and fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.... who saw it coming? I hope you guys love this twist, Joe will be a lot more involved in some of the later chapters for everyone who wants to see how this plays out! And the boys going through trouble yet again of course. See you in two weeks for reals this time!
> 
> Tumblr- mclennondreams


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie I've been struggling with motivation and writing and all of that recently. I hope this is still good! I'm gonna be my best to finish it because you guys deserve that and I genuinely love this story and where it's going to go.

Bundled up in a slightly ripped pink hoodie and crammed backpack on his shoulders, Tom steps on the tube. The heat smacks him as he rolls up his sleeves but the thought of taking his hoodie off is just too much for his tired self to manage. Tears bleed from his eyes occasionally but he tries to keep it all in, mainly because he has no idea how to begin to explain what is going wrong. He has no plan on where he’s going but it’s away from Joe and closer to Will so it seems like a move that can only be positive.

There’s only about 20 minutes until he reaches the busier areas so he uses the ride to think things over, desperately trying to scramble for any memory of him and Will playing. The only one he can pluck out is his storytelling in the park and even then he’s unsure if it was actually Will in the group of kids. They all blur into faceless beings in his memory, just bright raincoats and hushed giggles. The story doesn’t even come to mind and these days all he can remember are stories so that’s a little worrying.

He rubs his thumb over his chipped nail polish, Will had only redone them recently but Tom always seemed to knock and scuff them. He stares down at the deep purple shimmer, unsure if he wants to frantically scrape every piece off or if he wants to pour glue over them and hope it never fades. He finally allows himself to think about Will, about if he truly is the person Tom thinks he is or if he’s merely a reflection on his brother. He’d spent so much time paranoid at the prospect of Will cheating that the thought of it happening is almost overwhelming. He knows he can’t blame Will for his brother’s mistakes but they’re so alike in so many ways that it’s worrying to think some of that could have transferred. Will and Ned have an unusual relationship but Will hides so much of his family life it’s impossible to tell what their family is.

Tom pulls his phone out, unsure whether he’s relieved or worried that no messages have come through. Rain begins to drip and more people are filtering in through the doors so Tom decides he’ll get off at an area he knows best and work from there.

After 30 minutes of aimless walking and a few coffee shop meltdowns is when Tom spots the library ahead. At first, his instinct is to run from it, it somehow represents all of this and that leaves him uneasy. The building is stood there as a physical manifestation of all that’s gone wrong in his life since he went to that gig in the bar. Upon a second glance, it almost seems fitting to go in, back to the place that started his terrible mood when he’s in an even worse one. Tom scoffs and steps through the doors, initially his hands shake a little but it’s not as unnerving as he thought it was going to be. He looks over the DVD’s, the only part of the place he can somewhat enjoy since he never listened to Will’s 1900’s poetry recommendations. He picks up their copy of the Green Day documentary as tears cloud his eyes. Will had been so insistent they watch it and he spent most of the time pausing the movie to tell Tom cool facts. It breaks his heart when he realises he can’t even remember any of them.

“Oh, hey Tom! You’re back,” Tom hears along with a tap on his shoulder. He looks up, not recognising the voice but once the glasses, the brown squeaking loafers and the newspaper come into view it all makes sense. Tom doesn’t even try to drag up a smile, he doesn’t work there so he has no reason to anyway.  
“Hi,” Tom mutters, his brain too clouded to attempt decent communication.  
“Still going through it, huh?” the guy notices with a sigh, smiling at Tom sympathetically and Tom nods. He stands there awkwardly, almost like he’s trying to come up with something to say but he can’t formulate the words properly. Which would be odd for someone who looks so academic.

“Green Day fan?” he manages eventually after fidgeting for a while and Tom forgets he’s even twiddling it around his fingers as he puts it back.  
“Well, yeah. I-I mean, my boyf-“ Tom pauses, the word cutting itself short as his breath catches,  
“h-he uh is, yeah.” Tom finishes, unsure if that made any sense as he places the case back. When he looks up, the guy’s face has morphed into a curious expression.  
“He? Oh... c-cool,” he stutters and Tom shoots him a slightly angered look. God forbid he has to deal with homophobia on today of all days.

“Oh, no. sorry that sounded bad, uh. Me. Gay... too? I mean, I’m gay... as well,” he stutters, cringing his way through most of the words but it makes Tom smile nonetheless. The guy chuckles and shakes his head.  
“I’m sorry, I’m an idiot who is definitely overdue his stay. I’ll, uh, see you round sometime maybe,” he sounds resigned, like he’s already kicking himself before he’s even left the conversation. Tom knows how it feels to have people think you’re an idiot when you just struggle to talk to people.

“You’re not, I get what you mean and I’m sorry you always seem to run into me when I’m like this,” Tom sighs and the guy looks thrilled as he momentarily pauses his leaving.  
“It’s okay, work sucks I get it,” he replies quickly before shyly backing off again.  
“I don’t work here anymore, it’s just life that sucks now,” Tom jokingly comments and the guy looks at him with a very confused expression.  
“Oh, do you not? It’s just that they were talking about you over at the desk. I’m pretty sure I heard your name and something about a shift, maybe I was wrong and there’s another Tom I don’t know,” he shrugs and immediately Tom wonders why they would be talking about him when he hasn’t been back in so long. He tries not to let panic show across his face but he knows exactly where he’s heading after this conversation is over.

“I should probably see what they want then,” Tom raises his eyebrows and sighs, unsure of how much more today is gonna throw at him.  
“Okay, well it was nice to see you again,” he nods but he doesn’t leave as fast as he was going to before. In fact, he makes no move to leave, he just stands there switching his paper from arm to arm. Tom waits for him to go and eventually, with one last look, he walks off looking a lot less happy than he had before. Tom is ready to forget about it until he gets called back again. He looks like he’s regretting it the second it left his lips but Tom tries to maintain a smile, even if it’s just to find out why this guy is acting so weird.

“I-I, look...” he starts but quickly loses his confidence and at this point, Tom is wishing he’d get to whatever point he has, “I’ve been wanting to ask you, a-and it’s okay if you say no o-or if you don’t want to. I just... well, wanted to ask you something?” he rambles fast and Tom is trying his best to be polite while not having a single clue what this guy is saying.

“Sorry, I-I don’t understand,” Tom squints and the guy just sighs, grabbing his bag strap and looking down at the floor.  
“I just wondered i-if you maybe wanted t-to uh, hang out as like friends or maybe like mor- but forget it, it’s good,” he finishes after cutting himself off a few times and suddenly Tom realises that that’s why he’s been on edge this whole conversation. He isn’t quite sure if that stutter held some romantic gesture in it but by the looks of it, this guy just needs a friend more than anything else. He doesn’t act like the type to try and pick up a random library worker although that definitely seems like what he's been doing. Tom is instinctively trying to think of how to let him down easily but when he sees the same lonely expression and hopeful eyes that he had whenever he tried to talk to someone, he changes his mind.

“Yeah, okay. Uh, when were you thinking?” Tom asks as if he has anything on that could clash with this guys schedule. But he has to at least keep up the appearance that he’s doing something with his time.  
“I-I’ll be honest, I wasn’t exactly expecting you to say yes. Um, today’s my only free day this week so maybe next week?” he says, a smile growing on his face and lighting up his eyes. Tom isn’t typically an impulsive person but something in his smile overcomes him, maybe it’s a battle of their social nervousness clashing or an instinctive need to help someone he recognises that he’s been at some point but he finds himself suggesting something.

“I’m free today too and, to be honest, I could use someone to help me make sense of things. But next week works too,” Tom says, surprising even himself but these days he can’t trust being alone for long periods of time so maybe it would be nice to talk it over with someone that isn’t Will or Joe or related to one of them.  
“Right now? Uh, yeah sure. I’d like that,” he replies, pushing his glasses up as a beaming smile spreads across his face.  
“I’ll just go and check what they wanted me for and then we can go?” Tom says and the guy eagerly nods.  
“Yeah... yeah, that’s great!” The guy says, seemingly settling on the happiness as he follows Tom to the desk. Tom wonders if he’ll regret this or if it’s a choice he was supposed to make.

Tom sees Colin gathered around most of his staff, clearly he’s stressed as his voice is coming out louder than usual.  
“How am I gonna find anyone to do it then?!” Colin mutters through his clenched jaw as Tom steps up to the counter. At first, Colin doesn’t even notice he’s there until one of the workers points to him and he turns around.  
“Hey, someone told me-“ Tom starts but he’s immediately cut off by Colin.  
“Oh thank god it’s a miracle. Tom, please tell me you’re free this afternoon?” Colin practically begs and Tom recognises that he can’t say yes after inviting this guy out.

“Sorry, I’m going out with a friend,” Tom says and Colin places his head in his hands.  
“Please, it’s just for an hour, barely even that,” Colin says and Tom looks to the guy on his left who nods and smiles.  
“It’s okay, we can go out for a bit and come back here,” he says and usually Tom is pretty good at recognising when someone is upset so it seems to him like he genuinely means it and isn’t bothered by it.  
“Okay, what time?” Tom asks and Colin looks like he’s just seen God perform a miracle with the way the relief bursts across his face.  
“Oh, thank you, thank you so much, Tom. It’s four o’clock just after the kids have finished school in the reading corner,” he says and Tom squints, that wasn’t what he thought it was going to be.

“Oh, I thought you meant behind here?” Tom says and Colin pauses for a moment, his brows furrowing.  
“Did I not say? Sorry, my heads all over the place. I need you to read books for the kids after school,” Colin says and Tom’s eyes widen, there is no way he could ever do that.  
“Oh, uh right I’m sorry I can’t do that. I’m terrible with children a-and I’ve never even done any acting o-or anything like that before,” Tom stutters, feeling horrible for agreeing and then taking that back but he knows there’s no way he could read a kids book without it seeming truly miserable. Especially with his current state of mind, he could make even the happiest of stories sound like brutal murders.

“It doesn’t require any acting, all you have to do is sit and read a book! I’ll pay big?” Colin offers and although Tom knows he’s massively underqualified for this, he takes the offer anyway. Maybe this could be his test on getting back to the library. At least if it goes horribly, he can have a reason to never return and not feel guilty about it. Colin seems overjoyed and tells him to come back at half three to go over what he’s going to do. He’s scared but he has other things on his mind a lot more pressing so he nods along until they go to leave.

“Well, where do you want to go?” Tom asks as they vacate the library and the other man seems to have a plan.  
“There’s a great cafe a couple of streets away if you want?” he suggests with a shrug that says he wants to go but doesn’t want to seem forceful in stating they go there.  
"Yeah okay, sounds good,” Tom responds, unable to believe how chilled he is about going for lunch with a complete stranger.

They begin walking and it starts to seem like they’re doing well. They discuss interests and hobbies (he likes history and poetry which is unsurprising given that he dresses like a 1900’s professor), their favourite places to visit (Tom picks the waterfall garden Will had taken him to without explaining the reason). Tom likes him, he seems cool in a way that most people wouldn’t pick up on. He drops words people wouldn’t typically use randomly in sentences and he loves stories of which Tom assures him he has plenty.

“Hello sirs, can I get you a table today?” the waitress at the door inquires and the guy gives a nod, eyeing over to Tom almost as if he needs confirmation.  
“Uh yes, for two please,” Tom assures and they’re led to the right of the room. They sit down, Tom huffing off his backpack and the guy placing his paper on the side.  
“Sorry, I’m not always the best at speaking to strangers,” He laughs, shaking his head and Tom raises his eyebrows involuntarily.  
“You’re always good at talking to me,” Tom comments as he remembers the times they’ve picked up conversations. He opens up a menu and begins browsing, he’s never been here before but the burgers look pretty nice.  
“You don’t feel like a stranger to me,” he says after a moments thought and Tom smiles at how pleasant that sounds, it’s nice to know some people see him as friendly, even when he rarely is.

“Oh, thanks, that’s nice... wait, I just realised I don’t even know your name?” Tom adds, shaking his head in disbelief that they’ve been talking for 20 minutes and he has no idea what this man’s first name is.  
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m Elliot, Elliot Parry,” he says with a giggle and Tom notices that his name suits him a lot. It fits well with his personality which is less than you can say for most people. Everything about him seems well put together, from his outfit to his conversations and apparently, his name.

“Elliot’s a cool name, I like it,” Tom compliments and Elliot lights up as if he’s just been asked for his hand in marriage. It startles Tom a little but he tries not to let it show.  
“Oh thank you, chose it myself,” he says proudly while browsing the salads. Tom thinks for a second on how that’s possible and then it comes to him. He decides not to mention it for fear of making Elliot uncomfortable as there are steadily filling tables around them.  
“You chose wisely,” Tom says and the thankful look Elliot gives him is enough to know he made a good choice.

“Hello guys, are you ready to order?” the waitress bursts in seemingly out of nowhere, notepad in hand. Tom tries not to swear as he shifts in his seat to make his jump look less obvious.  
“I’ll have the chicken burger please,” Tom requests before looking over to Elliot who seems like he wasn’t prepared either.  
“Shrimp salad please,” he says quietly, his voice suddenly a little deeper than before. Tom looks over to him, realising that this is eerily similar to something that had happened with Will.

"I'm allergic, just to let you know," Tom blurts out awkwardly before wondering why he said that when there's no way he'd ever come into contact with it. "Oh... should I get something else or? Do you know what, I'll have the Ceasar salad instead," Elliot decides and Tom stays silent, unsure why he mentioned it in the first place but at least he's learning from his mistakes.  
“Okay great, I’ll get those ready for you. Oh, here you go as well,” she finishes by placing a candle in the middle of the table and grinning like she has some sort of inside knowledge.  
“Oh, no. We’re not uh-“ Tom starts to protest but she’s already walked off to input their orders.

He sighs as he looks between them, the candle glaringly obvious and obnoxiously big for their tiny table.  
“Well, uh, this is um... interesting,” Elliot cringes and things go silent as they lock eyes. For a moment, Tom is thinking that maybe some part of Elliot wants this until he begins to laugh and that sets Tom off. Once they start they can’t stop until most of the people in the room are staring at them. Even when they bite into their fists, their eyes well with tears and Tom can’t help but realise he hasn’t laughed like this in so long. Elliot blows the candle out and pushes it aside.  
“Anyway,” he says sassily with raised eyebrows and Tom rubs his eyes as he tries to calm himself down.

“God I haven’t laughed that hard in forever,” Tom says, shaking his head and checking his red cheeks in the reflection of his phone. There’s the first pause in a while and for a moment Tom almost begins to think he’s ruined their mood until Elliot speaks but softer this time.  
“Yeah, you always seem down when I speak to you,” Elliot sounds concerned, his cheery grin fading into worry.  
“Just had a lot going on,” Tom sighs, resigning back into his mood as quickly as he left it. He scratches the back of his neck and tries not to think about the hickey Will left in that spot a few days ago, there might even still be a faint reddening to his skin left.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Elliot asks and Tom can already feel his lip wobbling and his voice ready to crack as Will re-enters his thoughts for the first time since he’d met Elliot again.  
“No, no, it’s fine,” Tom brushes off, suddenly closing in and he can see Elliot reading him like a book.  
“Hey, it might help. You said you needed someone to help you make sense of things, let me be that person?” Elliot offers and Tom isn’t sure that’s a good idea until he sees him settling in. Elliot takes off his scarf and leans forward on the table like he’s ready to handle everything Tom has so he begins.

He explains everything that happened with Joe, with Will, with his depression. He spills it all and once he starts he can’t seem to stop. Their food comes and Tom barely pauses in between bites until everything is out there and his plate is clean. It feels like both seconds and days and he’s amazed his voice only cracked a couple of times but it feels almost heavenly to have gotten it all out in the open. Tom lets out a breath, his eyes shining and Elliot leans back in his seat.  
“Wow,” Elliot says, processing everything Tom has told him as he stares at a blank spot of the table. Immediately Tom’s guilt sets in and he realises what he’s done.

“Sorry, god. I’m such an idiot, I shouldn’t have-“ Tom starts but Elliot reaches over and takes his hand.  
“No, don’t apologise. I’m glad you told me. That’s an awful lot to be holding in my friend,” Elliot smiles a little and pats the top of Tom’s wrist. Even though it was purely a turn of phrase, hearing ‘my friend’ makes a calm warmth settle in his stomach. Everything feels so chaotic after reliving the most insane period of his life and yet here Elliot is, calm and smiling. He hadn’t realised how much he needed to hear that until just then. Tom sends him a shaky half-smile back, one that says he can’t quite speak but he’s thankful for Elliot listening. It feels like such a wonderful moment, for the first time he feels lighter and like he might one day make sense of what’s happened until he senses eyes on him. At first, he expects it to be the waitress popping up out of nowhere again but when his eyes skip just past Elliot’s head, he spots him. Dan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you're still reading! It's all good if you're not, hope you all stay safe :)


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